


"You didn't have a happy childhood?"

by TrashDoveStuff_Liv



Category: Victorious (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Bullying, Childhood Memories, Divorce, Domestic Violence, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Multi, Pre-Canon, Some light moments because I'm not a monster
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 127,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22522231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashDoveStuff_Liv/pseuds/TrashDoveStuff_Liv
Summary: "My favourite toy was a hammer, you finish the puzzle".Jade West can vaguely remember a time before her parents started fighting. But as the animosity grows between them, she is left to deal with her own confused thoughts and turbulent emotions. Some days, she can't tell who she hates more: her mother, her father, or herself. Her only source of clarity is the acting lessons her parents force her into taking, but how can she possibly dare to dream for anything when the two people she needed argued all the time?This story follows the events of Jade's childhood, starting in 1st grade and ending just before the show starts. There will be anger and heartbreak, but also some sweet moments as Jade navigates a very unstable home.
Relationships: Beck Oliver/Jade West, Cat Valentine & Jade West
Comments: 179
Kudos: 273





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know my tags and my summary hint at some lighter moments, some of them centred around acting. Next chapter, I promise. It's just gotta be a little rough first.

Jade could vaguely recall a time before the fighting, but she knew exactly when it started. 

She was six years old. Her father had lost his job over the summer, and even though he was home during the day, she rarely saw him outside of mealtimes. He was asleep when she woke up for school, and asleep when she came home. Her mother worked a lot, even more now that he’d lost his job, and so he was supposed to take care of her after school. Instead, he’d be passed out in a desk chair in the home office, empty cans littering the table where the computer monitor buzzed in the dark. She always took this as silent permission to eat ice cream and watch t.v. 

Her mother would come home late, and bustle about the kitchen in a tense but not unfriendly manner as she made dinner. She would comment under her breath about the state of her husband’s office. But that’s not what the first fight was about.

It was about a failed spelling test. It was March, and she had been struggling in English since she started first grade in September, but she hadn’t actually failed anything before then. At dinner, she brought it up, she needed to get it signed for school. That’s what started it. He thought she should study harder; her mother thought he was being too hard on her. It was a quiet fight, carried over the course of the meal through snide remarks and backhanded comments, death glares over bowls of spaghetti. After thirty minutes of relentless argument, they were spitting pure vitriol across the table. When her mother cleared the bowls in a flustered rage, she didn’t notice that Jade had barely eaten. 

Her mother usually helped her get ready for bed, but that night she waited on the stairs to the basement bedroom (the one she had always wanted) until well after her bedtime. She could hear their fighting through the air vents. It was 8:30, and still, no one had come to remind her to brush her teeth or even tuck her in. She got ready alone and returned to her spot on the stairs to resume her eavesdropping. It wasn’t difficult. As the night went on, they got louder and angrier. Before she had only picked up on garbled words that were clearly spoken with a degree of animosity but were too quiet to actually make out. Now, she could hear them plainly. 

“Well, you’re home all day, if you think it’s SO important, why don’t you spend some time with your fucking daughter?” her mother spat.

“You’re supposed to be her Mother. If you can’t control her how the hell am I supposed to?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” her mother said in false sympathy “I have an actual JOB. Because I can hold one down. Meanwhile, you’re over here drinking like a goddamn fish- you don’t even get her ready for school!” 

“You fucking bitch!” 

“Really?!” 

She hugged her knees and listened for a little longer. This was the most she’d heard from either of them since her dad lost his job, and they were yelling profanities at each other. A twisted part of her wanted to yell at them, too, so that they would finally see her and sign her test and tuck her in. At a quarter to nine, she became too tired to wait and saw herself to her room. She lay awake all night. The next day at school a boy in her class told her she looked tired, so she kicked him in the shins. She was sent home with a disciplinary notice from her teacher. They fought again that night. 

Over the course of the week, the fight mutated. It was no longer about the spelling test or the disciplinary notice. It was about money, work, responsibility. It was about her dad’s drinking and her mom’s irritability. It was about who took Jade to the doctor last (her mother), and who paid for her shoes (her mother). It was about everything, and she noticed it became louder. It was no longer a single, quiet fight. It was a dozen separate fights that came together in one massive ever-changing, never-ending tension. By the seventh day, quiet remarks at the dinner table weren’t enough, and they would often begin shouting before dinner was served. The fight itself became so loud and present, that everything else in the house vanished, and Jade was pushed into the shadows. 

That wasn’t to say that no one tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy. On the weekends, her mother took her to the park or the beach, and some days her father would even join them. In public, they were able to get along and smile, take pictures and act like a normal family. But then they’d return home and it would be back to arguing. Her father accused her mother of being interested in the men they would see when they were all out. Her mother accused him of far more than just interest. 

Sometimes, an entire week would pass without a word spoken between the two of them, and these were the weeks Jade liked best. On these weeks, her father would smile at her during dinner, and her mother would comb her hair before bed. A few times, during weeks like these, her father would even be awake to greet her after school, and they would exchange small conversation before he sat her down to do homework. It never lasted more than 9 days. 

***

In the summer between first and second grade, she celebrated her 7th birthday. As she closed her eyes to blow out the candles on her cake, she only had one wish. She wanted the fighting to stop. Instead, she got a t.v. for her room. 

One night in August, the fighting had gotten so loud that she couldn’t sleep. She tried placing a pillow over her ears, but she found the deafening sensation to be just as disturbing as the shouting from upstairs.  
.  
.  
If she couldn’t get her wish for the fighting to end, at least she had a television to drown out the noise. It was late, almost midnight, but she switched on the screen anyway. She clicked through several channels: cartoons, doctors, cops, news, bikini-clad-girls dancing to chart-toppers. Nothing worth watching, but flipping through the stations gave her something to do. Then, she came across an old movie. Black and white with garbled audio, something about it was almost settling. She smiled to herself when Dracula came on screen. She knew her parents wouldn’t want her watching a scary movie, or maybe they wouldn’t care, she couldn’t tell anymore. She kept watching; did it even matter if she got scared? She watched the movie in its entirety and tried to imagine what the off-screen gore would look like. Even though she knew she was supposed to be scared, she wasn’t. The fight that raged on upstairs was more upsetting than anything she saw in the black-and-white film on her T.V, and something about the monster film made her feel seen. All the time, her parents pretended like nothing was wrong, that they could still go to the beach and smile and laugh. But in this movie, everything was wrong. Every dark shadow was brought to attention, every ugly aspect of the monster on the screen, all of it was showcased. Except for the gore, she thought, but everything else.  
.  
.  
.  
Every night for the rest of the week, she turned the t.v on just before midnight to watch the classic horror movies as they played. Some were rather frightening, but even those she found were comforting in their honesty. She began to fall in love with these movies. During the day, she would draw cemeteries and monsters, using only black crayon because the movies were all in black and white. At night, she would lull herself into a state of relaxation with the lullabies of screams from her t.v. set. After a month of horror films, she didn’t want anything to do with any of the toys she had. She put them all in bags or boxes and tucked them away in her closet. Toys were only fun when you had a quiet place to make them fun, and even though her parents would pretend otherwise, she didn’t have that. She hardly had a place for herself, let alone for toys that she felt uninspired to play with. 

In second grade, the other kids were quick to label her a freak. She preferred collecting insects over playing sports, and on the rare occasion she was invited in a game of pretend, she would end up fighting with the rest of the kids. She wanted to be a vampire, and she wanted them to run. They didn’t want that. She could be found scribbling in her schoolbooks, and on her worksheets, pictures of hands coming up from the ground or a smile with fangs. The teachers who didn’t know her yet were briefly afraid that she would become a target for bullies: a little odd, fairly quiet, and always alone. She proved them wrong. She was not “a little odd.” She was strange in a way that her classmates found rather unnerving. She was not “fairly quiet,” just prudent, and she knew how to use her words to scare her classmates into submission.  
.  
.  
It’s true, she was always alone, but she preferred it that way. The last thing she wanted to do at school was fight; but the classmates that were brave enough to approach her became random targets for a rage that had nothing to do with them. She liked that they were scared of her, none of them fought back when she moved between them, and she found she was able to say and do whatever she wanted around them. Mostly she sat alone, secluded and watching. But when she got bored (or on the very rare occasion, lonely) she was able to choose a group at random and insert herself into whatever they were doing. 

In November, her father got a job and that changed everything. Her mother was home more during the week, no longer taking on more clients than she could realistically handle. She still worked a lot, always on the phone, but not gone to show or stage houses in San Marino. Her father was, expectedly, no longer home after school, so they hired a babysitter. She maintained that she did not need one, but Kevin was okay. The biggest change, she noticed, was that the fighting had stopped almost overnight. Things were peaceful for the first time since before her dad lost his job. The three of them weren’t together often enough or long enough for there to be any fighting, so there wasn’t. When she saw them, they were pleasant. They spoke to her with kind words and tucked her in at night.  
.  
.  
When Jade got the flu in early December, her mother worked from home for three days, giving her soup and smoothing her hair. For those three days, her father brought a different movie home from blockbuster, and they watched it after dinner until she fell asleep on the couch. They were the parents that she vaguely remembered having, but she didn’t know them anymore. She didn’t know them, and they didn’t know her. They didn’t see that she didn’t have any friends, and they didn’t notice that she had put away most of her toys. They couldn’t see the rage they had given her, that she carried around at school until she lashed out on her classmates. The calm that had settled in the house was unsettling, she didn’t recognise her home without the presence of a fight, and she didn’t trust this period of peace. 

As Christmas drew closer nothing happened to threaten the new era of calm in the Wests’ house. The longer things remained undisturbed, the more irritated Jade became. She was determined that if there was no fight, she would make one. The silence and the peace was so alien to her, and she wasn’t sure how to operate within it. She understood chaos, and she could create it, she was sure. So she bided her time. 

On Christmas morning, she unwrapped box after box of ammunition. With each present, she became slightly angrier: cute toys that made her want to puke. Dolls that she would never have asked for, books about princesses that she hoped would die before their stupid princes rescued them, miniature glass figurines of delicate animals. It was never clearer to her that they were all strangers. She stared at the pile of presents before her, eyes unfocused on one of the dolls. She could feel her heart beating in her head as a swell of emotions swirled inside her tiny body. Part of her wanted to cry, part of her wanted to disappear, part of her wanted to crush everything in sight.

For the first time since they had started fighting, her mother dared to ask, “Jade, are you okay?”

Before she even knew what she felt, she was yelling. Throwing presents and tearing heads off of toys to create a new warzone. How dare they pretend this house didn’t belong to disaster. How dare they pretend they hadn’t hated each other for over a year, and how dare they pretend like they finally saw her. Their attempts to subdue her only made her angrier, and finally, it was her turn to yell. She tossed the new figurines so hard that they shattered against the wall, the sound sending shivers down her spine. There was glass everywhere, and as she looked at the shattered figure she felt a sense of kinship rise within her. It was gratifying to know that not everything needed to pretend it hadn’t been hurtled.

They took away the television in her room and donated the toys that weren’t broken. After her outburst on Christmas morning, they seemed to think that she didn’t deserve the presents they got her. Entitlement, they thought, was the main source of her acting out. Her mother also found her box of set aside toys and donated those as well. To her mother’s credit, she honestly believed that Jade was done playing with them. 

For the rest of the break, Jade struggled to find something to do. She sometimes watched movies on the t.v. in the den just beyond the foyer, or read Goosebumps in the living room beside the kitchen. She had struggled with reading, but something in her brain had clicked in October, and suddenly she was able to pick up new words without thinking too much. 

There was a lingering tension in the air, and all the books she read or movies she watched didn’t instruct her on how to navigate that air of mistrust. What did help was the makeshift toys she had taken from around the house. She took a hammer from the garage, and repeatedly drove nails into a foot-long piece of spare 2X4. It was like delivering dozens of tiny, rhythmic punches, and each one made her feel a little more subdued. When that didn’t work, she would steal a plate from the kitchen and smash it with the tool. The sound of shattering ceramic was cathartic, and she found herself in the jagged pieces. She left a small trail of destruction with that hammer, and it became her favourite thing to do. Her parents tried to curry her favour again with trips to museums and parks, where they would continue their charade of a perfect family. They would smile and laugh, sometimes even hold hands or exchange quick pecks on the lips. They expected her to play along, but it was a game she was no longer interested in.


	2. Chapter 2

Jade couldn’t figure out why her parents were dedicated to pretending that every bad thing didn’t exist. They effectively ignored all the problems from the last eight months: as if they’d never happened. She hated them for it. 

But nothing she said or did could stop them from forcing her to play along, and that is why in mid-January, she stood in her father’s office in a god-awful purple dress. There were a few other kids her age, all of them had been corralled around a table to do a craft. Adults were standing in huddles while trays of hors d'oeuvres were passed around. There was a bowl full of ice and cans of pop for the kids, and an open bar for the adults. Jade thought it was ridiculous to have a Christmas party in January, and protested to the best of her ability, kicking her mother twice while being carried to the car. But there she was. 

“We won’t stay long,” her mother had promised. 

But it was quarter past nine, and she had little hope that they would be leaving anytime soon. Her mother was engaged in a conversation with a couple in a corner, trying to sell them a house by the sounds of it. Her father was talking louder than usual, a glass of merlot held lazily in his hand. A woman stood next to him, aptly paying attention. He was relaying some sort of funny story from his youth, and Jade wondered if he had ever really been that man. Had he really gone to Spain in his twenties? The woman laughed and placed a hand on her father’s forearm. Jade turned her gaze to focus on her. She was younger than Jade’s mother, younger than most of the adult partygoers. Her black dress hugged every inch of her tall, slender body, blonde hair twisted up in an elaborate bun.

Jade watched them for a while. The woman did not remove her hand, keeping it on his arm and now tracing up and down with her fingertips. Her father did nothing to shove her off, but after a while brought his free hand to rest on her waist. 

It was time to leave. She went to her mother first, tugging at the hem of her dress incessantly. 

“In a minute, honey,” she tried to shove her off.

“You said we wouldn’t stay long,” Jade said, matter-of-factly, “It’s time to go.”

“I said, in a minute,” her mother spoke through clenched teeth as she tried to keep her smile for the prospective clients. 

“No,” the demand increased in Jade’s voice, “Now.” 

“I’m the parent,” her mother started, but she didn’t get to finish.

“I want to go home!” She practically shouted, drawing attention from several people. Her mother was trying to subdue her, keeping her voice light and maintaining a friendly look. 

“Jade, honey, five more minutes, ‘kay?” she pleaded. “Can we do this in five more minutes?” 

Jade could feel the gaze of the adults, still looking at her from her outburst. She shifted on her feet in contemplation, but nodded and went back to the craft table where they were supposed to be colouring. She knew what “five more minutes” meant. They would be there for a while.   
At 10 pm her blinks became longer and heavier. She was struggling to stay awake and she looked around trying to find either of her parents. Her mother was talking with a different couple now, still not remotely close to leaving. Her father was nowhere in sight. 

A few adults tried to talk to her, one man complimented her on her dress and asked if she wanted a candy cane. She didn’t. She just wanted to go home. She left him, mumbling something about finding her dad, and walked off to find him. 

She turned down one of the hallways and tapped the walls as she walked, eventually reaching the large windowed office at the end. The blinds were closed and the door was slightly ajar. She heard the sucking and smacking of lips coming from inside, as well as the sound of hands running over bodies. She knew she shouldn't be there, but she had nothing else to do at this stupid party, so she walked close enough to peer through the door. She smiled to herself, knowing that what she was doing was extra-not-allowed. 

Her heart dropped in her chest. She couldn’t see much, but she could see her father entwined with the blonde woman from earlier. She felt like throwing up, and even though she wanted to leave, her feet stayed rooted in their spot. 

Eventually, a fit of giggles escaped the woman and Jade was brought out of her shock. She turned on her heels and walked back to the room where the party was slowly dying down. Jade’s mother hadn’t even noticed her absence. 

She wanted to say something, anything. The image of the woman and her father played again in her mind, taking up so much room that it gave her a headache. She had a secret. With one word, she could destroy everything. It wasn’t fair that this was her responsibility. 

Over the next while, she watched them both closely. She was looking for a sign of awareness from her mother or a hint of guilt on her father’s face, but neither showed up. She wanted to say something, but she knew if she did the fighting would start again, and as much as she didn’t trust this new era of peace, she wasn’t sure she wanted to disrupt it that much. This secret, it wouldn’t just start a fight. It was more powerful than tossed around Christmas presents, it was an absolute betrayal, and she knew it. She knew if she said anything, her entire life would collapse around her. 

It was like she was walking around with a grenade, and she could set it off whenever she wanted. That secret gave her more control than she knew what to do with, and she carried it around in her body every day. It plagued her, this power she had not asked for, and she stayed awake straining her ears for the sound of a fight so that the secret would be out. But if there was a fight, she never heard it, so she held onto the secret. 

**  
Her behaviour at school had gotten worse. In the first half of the year, she had been content to stay alone, acting out only when approached. But now she went out of her way to scare her classmates. She tripped them as they walked by for her own amusement, made up stories about murderers and monsters. She managed to convince a particularly stupid boy that she was a vampire, and she carried around a ziplock bag full of red food colouring pretending it was her lunch. 

“It’s from the old folks home,” she said, dipping a finger into the dark red liquid and licking it casually, “You know, the one your gramma’s at.”

“How do you know where my gramma is?” 

“Because your family’s blood tastes the best.” She glared at him, but licked her lips, “So I always know where to find one of you.” 

The visit with the principal was a little late, but not unexpected. Of course, neither of her parents would admit it was necessary at all, but they were both there. She joined them for the first half of the discussion, where they expressed their concerns and her parents maintained that “nothing’s wrong” at home, and that Jade was “a perfectly normal girl.” Not long after that, Jade was dismissed so the adults could talk in private. She thought she caught snippets of what they were saying, but she couldn’t make sense of it. 

“We could test for-”

“Structure-”

“-Concerning”

“Fine-”

She stared at the floor, trying not to think about what they were saying. Her toes barely grazed the tile, and she swung her feet to pass the time. She didn’t like that they were all talking about her, and she wished they were yelling so she could hear it, but since she couldn’t she tried to focus on anything other than what they could be talking about. 

She thought about what her life would be like if she was a vampire for real, who would be her first meal. Probably that boy, just because he was so stupid. 

She wasn’t expelled. She had detentions at lunch for a few days and was told that if she didn’t stop picking on other kids, they would have to suspend her. They asked if she knew what that meant. She didn’t, but she nodded anyway.   
On the way home, her mother kept stealing glances at her from the rear-view mirror. Her father kept a steely glare straight ahead. Jade watched the buildings go by, forcing her eyes to make them blurry. They were all quiet, and Jade wondered if they would just stop talking to her for a week before pretending there hadn’t been a meeting. She half expected as much, which is why she was surprised to hear her mother break the silence. 

“Your teacher thinks we should look into something for you to do after school,” she started in her friendly voice that never lasted very long, “like a sport or a club, wouldn’t that be fun?”  
“No”

“Well too bad,” her father grumbled from the passenger’s seat, “You don’t get to act like that and decide what you get to do.” 

Her mother glared at him before turning her attention back on the road. “What your father is trying to say, sweetie” she added that last word pointedly, more for her father than for her. “Is that clubs or sports can help you express yourself in a way that doesn’t hurt people.”

“That’s stupid,” she said. She didn’t want to do anything, a club or a sport wasn’t going to stop her parents from fighting, it wasn’t going to make them suddenly realize that she was angry. It wasn’t going to chase away the image of her father and that woman tangled in the office. 

“For once we agree,” she heard her father mumble, but again he was silenced by her mother’s stare. “Look,” he tried again, “We’ll put you in something to get the teacher off your case. Then if the behaviour stops, we’ll take you out again.” 

“Clifford…” her mother warned.

“Ellen…” 

“That’s not what we talked about in the office.” 

“Extracurriculars take focus away from academic success, they’ve done studies on this…”

“A lot of studies actually say the opposite… but even if they didn’t, she’s seven,”

“That’s not too young to learn good habits…” 

“But it IS too young for you to put that kind of pressure on her.”

“If it’s a team sport, that can be good for developing leadership skills…” he ignored her last comment.

“What if she doesn’t want to do a team sport?” She didn’t.

“What if she does?” She didn’t. 

“Jade?” her mother asked sweetly, “do you want to do a team sport?” 

“No,” she contributed. Mostly because she wanted to disagree with her father. 

“Told you.”

Her parents bickered in the front seat for the rest of the drive home, and when they finally got out of the car they slammed their doors. But the conversation wasn’t over. 

The three of them fought about it for four hours, but eventually, Jade agreed to take acting classes. One of her mother’s suggestions. Not a single part of her had any interest in acting, but she supposed if she knew more about it, she could judge the actors on television better. She liked the overdramatic screams from horror movies, and even though she could think of at least ten things she’d rather do on a Saturday afternoon, she thought it sounded better than her other choices. 

On her first day, her father had to drag her to the car by her wrists. She wriggled desperately to get away, adamant that she would NOT go, she would NOT try, and she would NOT like it. 

“Just try the one, please?” her mother sighed, hand pressed to her forehead while she watched her daughter struggle to get away.

“NO!” She wriggled harder than ever against her father, twisting herself until it hurt. “Ow!”

“Jade.” Her mother practically hissed, her hand now resting at her side, eyes glaring at her. “Stop it. Get in the car.” 

After ten more minutes’ struggle, they were driving towards the studio for her first class. She didn’t know what to expect. Didn’t know if the other kids would be as annoying as the ones at school or if she’d be expected to cry real tears right away. Maybe she’d be so bad at it that they would ban her from ever returning. Needless to say, she had very little hope that these classes would change anything. 

At seven years old, Jade was the youngest in the room by about a year. There was the usual chaos of everyone arriving before the class started, and she watched her classmates pour in with their parents. Her mother and father stood behind her, but she wished they would leave. If this was something she had to do, she would do it by herself. 

Her instructor was a nice woman, maybe in her late thirties. Jade thought she looked a little too tanned and a little too thin, but otherwise very down to earth. She looked very much like someone who used to have big dreams but went in a different direction. Not in a sad way, nothing about the woman seemed depressed or downtrodden, in fact, she practically floated. 

Jade still didn’t want to be there. 

“That must be the teacher…” her mother muttered, nudging her in the arm, “Let’s go say hi.”  
Her father let out a sigh and mumbled something about hippies, but walked over with them.   
“Hello,” her mother started “We spoke on the phone, I’m Ellen, this is Jade,” she positioned Jade a little in front of herself and kept talking, “Thanks again for finding a spot to squeeze her in, I know your program started in September,”

“Not to worry!” The woman said, and then turned to Jade “My name is Melody. I’m excited to have you in class, we have a lot of fun here!” 

Jade looked down and didn’t say anything. Her parents left. 

She spent the entire first class just watching. Melody assured her she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. She watched them hop like frogs around the room, play silly games, and trip over tongue-twisters. She didn’t want to do any of it, she’d much rather be at home in her room by herself. There, she could read or draw or hammer nails into the wall (which she had been told not to do). So she just watched them, silently forming her opinions on all of them. 

One girl was almost as quiet as she was. But too shy to be seen by herself in a corner, so she participated reluctantly. One of the boys clearly had a crush on this girl, he kept offering to pair up with her or choosing her first when it was time to do group games. Another boy talked far too much for her liking. She smiled to herself when he completely stumbled over the tongue twister.   
“ If a dog chews chews. Whose shoes does he wh-ch-sh-” 

The group giggled a little, causing him to blush. Melody encouraged him to slow down and try again, but the class was over. 

Jade thought she heard fragments of an argument after dinner that night, but it was too quiet to tell. The image of her father and that woman played in her head, and she briefly entertained the idea of coming clean. She could tell her mother what she saw and cause the biggest fight the house had ever seen. The idea was appealing, but it also made her feel sick. She tried to convince herself that it wasn’t the right moment, maybe another time. She held onto the secret. 

After her mother had tucked her in, she lay awake for a little, just thinking. She didn’t want to think about her father and that woman, so she decided to think about her afternoon, instead. The acting class would maybe be okay if she could just sit there by herself, and maybe if that’s all it would be, she could keep doing it. The kids were obnoxious, and the games were silly, but she didn’t actually have to do any of it. The stupid tongue twisters….

“If a dog chews shoes, whose shoes does he choose” she repeated for herself, just to prove that it wasn’t actually hard. She said it a few more times and fell asleep. 

The next week, she was just as reluctant to leave the house. She put up just as much of a fight, and she was just as annoyed when they got to the theatre. Again, she sat in the corner, prepared to spend another hour of her life silently judging kids for being stupid. She tuned out when Melody started talking, thinking instead about how her life would be better if she were a vampire. It was one of her favourite daydreams. 

She wanted to turn into a bat so she could fly far away and start over somewhere dark and cool- but not cold. She knew she didn’t look scary, but that would work to her advantage. Her victims wouldn’t know to be afraid until after she had finished draining their blood.

“Graveyard” was the only word that could have possibly pulled her from this daydream, and she turned her head to look at her teacher. Had Melody really said ‘graveyard’? 

Jade looked around the circle to see if her classmates would be helpful at all in determining what she had missed. The talkative boy groaned in frustration, as did a few others, but several clapped. She looked around to see what everyone was doing and watched as they all lay down on their backs. 

“Jade,” Melody said, “I was hoping you could be our grave keeper.” 

Every part of her wanted to be the grave keeper, whatever that was. She nodded, and stood, feigning confidence at the situation. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, but if she got to be the grave keeper, then she wanted to do it.

She looked at her other classmates lying on the floor. The game was called graveyard, she was now fairly sure, so they must be the dead bodies. But she was the grave keeper, so she wasn’t supposed to be on the floor. She stood for a moment, confused and starting to feel very silly when Melody stepped in.

“Just try to make them talk or laugh. Then they come back to life and they help.”

Jade headed over to the talkative boy first. It was a successful game. 

They played two more rounds. Both times she was a dead body, and the last one to remain lying on the floor. On the last round, she lay perfectly still, eyes open and face expressionless while her classmates each tried in succession to make her laugh. 

“She didn’t laugh last time either!”

“Maybe she doesn’t laugh”

One of the girls made a fart noise, which almost forced Jade to roll her eyes, but she stayed a perfect corpse. It was strangely gratifying to be the last remaining body that no one could wake. 

They moved on to different games. None of them had interesting names like graveyard did, but she liked one where she got to scare another kid away from a pretend park bench. She was able to scare away the quiet girl through an endless barrage of questions. The whole time, Jade spoke louder than necessary in as deep a voice as she was capable. When it was her turn again, she got to scare off the talkative boy. She sat down right beside him, their arms only an inch apart. 

“Nice weather,” he said. 

Jade remained silent.

“A bit hot maybe.”

She narrowed her eyes and moved closer. Still not touching, intimidating him through sheer presence. 

“I uh,” his eyes darted to the side, “It’s better too warm than too cold though”

She tilted her head but said nothing. She let him try several more times to start a conversation before she smiled at him. A twisted smile that she’d seen from the horror movies. He left. 

She had fun. 

After that, acting classes were something she looked forward to on a weekly basis. She would count down the days until she would be back in that room, surrounded by kids she still didn’t like, but doing something that made her feel like she was allowed to be whoever she wanted to be. Some days, they even got to scream. She would never do it on her own, but when instructed to, she could feel the tension leaving her body. In the games, she forgot everything. She forgot that she was exhausted from trying to pretend everything was fine, even though she still didn’t trust that the war in her home would not start again. She forgot she had more in common with broken plates than she did with any of the kids in that room. She forgot about the image of that woman and her father.

Jade realized she quite enjoyed making characters, and she loved the games where she would have to become someone else. She loved becoming a giraffe in human form or an alien on earth for the first time. It was engaging and it forced her to think, but it was also the best escape she had ever discovered. She never wanted to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you,  
> -Trashdove


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to upload this weekly, but it may not work out to be exactly every 7 days. I hope you like the chapter and yeah, baby Jade is pretty mad.

When the fighting started again it was about the smell of a perfume her mother didn’t recognize. Jade silently prayed that her mother would catch him, or that he would come clean and tell her on his own, so she could stop carrying the image of him and that woman around in her brain. She listened to them fighting into the early hours of the morning, mulling over the idea of telling her mother what she saw, but the thought of doing so only made her angrier. Why should she be the one to come clean? Why should she be the keeper of this massive weapon, the one person who could take things from bad to worse? It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t her job. 

The fighting had gotten more powerful in its brief hiatus. Yelling didn’t seem to cut it anymore, and Jade could hear them growing violent. With still no television to drown them out, she was forced to listen to plates being thrown, or the echos of open-palmed slaps ringing in the walls. It was a new type of nightmare, and she was never sure who she was more afraid of. More than ever, she needed her acting classes, needed someplace to exist where she didn’t feel like she was constantly holding on to more power than she ever wanted. That awful secret that would only add gasoline to the fire raging on in the home. 

Some nights, the fighting would be quiet and barely present, but she would stay hidden in her room, certain that if she saw either of them for too long she would let it slip and ruin everything. It was no longer the constant fighting that it used to be, several days would pass between incidents, but then she would hear them yelling and hitting and throwing things.

Several times, the fighting escalated to the point where she no longer felt safe, even in her room. She would sneak out the front door, undetected amidst the noise, and sit on the front lawn. If she planned enough ahead, she would be out with a book, but so often she was out at night, and there wasn’t enough light to read by. It was never pitch black, but it was dark enough that she couldn’t make out the words on the page, even if she squinted really hard So she’d lay on her back and stare up into the sky. She wished she could see stars like at her grammas house in Oregon, but the hazy glow of the lights from the city was nice in its own way. It made her feel awake, even as the hours stretched on, and it made her feel less lonely as she waited for the house to quiet down so she could sneak back in. 

One evening, the fight was piqued again when her father came back three hours after dinner. It was past her bedtime, she had waited up to hear him come home, wondering if tonight would be the night that he finally owned up to his kiss with the woman at the party. She felt sickly compelled to listen to their fights because she had to know everything that was happening. Everything she was going to have to pretend she hadn’t heard. She had this incredible power, and she needed enough information so she could appropriately control it. So she listened when he came back at 10 pm muttering something about staying late at the office. 

“Yeah, the office, I’m sure.” Her mother snapped. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” He was still passive, and there was hope yet that the fight wouldn’t escalate.

“It’s ridiculous to think that you’re spending too much time running around with some bimbo?”

“When the accusation is baseless, yes. There’s no bimbo.” except there was. 

“Okay, so if I were to call the office…” 

“-Oh here we go!” His voice was getting louder “You’re really going to call my boss and air all this dirty laundry out for him? I’m sure that won’t damage any promotions I might get!”

“Scared of me finding out the truth?”

“No, I’m just tired of you bringing everyone into our fights. It wouldn’t kill you to trust me.”

“If you would give me an honest answer for once in your fucking life, maybe I could trust you”

“I was at the office!” He shouted, “What about that is so hard for you to believe?”

“All of it! You’re never where you say you are, you’re never doing what you say you’re doing, all you ever do is lie to me Cliff, and I’m sick of it. If you would man the fuck up and face-”

There was a slap. Then her father started yelling. Eventually, their words were lost as they shouted over top of each other. Something was thrown, more yelling. 

Jade couldn’t tell exactly what was going on, but she knew she didn’t want to be there anymore. She carefully snuck out of the house, narrowly avoiding the fight in the kitchen. 

She lay down on the softest patch of ground and looked up at the hazy sky. She wondered what would happen if she ran away. If they would stop fighting long enough to notice. She could probably disappear off the face of the earth, and they would be too caught up in their stupid fighting to care. She could hear something being thrown inside the house, and more yelling. She thought about how she’d be exhausted at school the next day, and how she’d have to pretend everything was fine. She hated faking and hated the facade that her parents presented to the world, but she was not going to be the one to screw things up. 

In her last acting class, she had been part of a two-person scene with the quiet girl, Serena. They had been encouraged to take on roles opposite to their personalities, so Jade played the nice but scared girl and Serena played a bully. It went okay, but as Jade lay on her lawn at 10:35 pm, still unable to go in the house, she thought about how she could have made it better. Maybe she could have walked slower, or spoken quieter. Was her character really scared, or was she pretending to be scared for some secret reason? What about Serena’s character? Why was Serena’s character so mean, and how could that have been conveyed more effectively? Jade thought about what she would do if she were the bully, how she’d hold herself and what she’d do with her hands while she delivered the lines. She started to analyse the other characters from the other scenes, imagining what she’d do in each role.

A lot of the kids didn’t like scene work, because it wasn’t as fun as the games, but Jade didn’t mind. She liked looking through dialogue to figure out what a character was feeling, and she would analyze the performances in her brain while her parents fought. Scene Work came easily to her. She could contort her face to match the twisted rage she could never escape, and it should have been concerning how many of her characters were very very angry. Even that was an outlet because she finally had a space where she was allowed to feel however she needed to. She could play angry really well, but she had other tricks: she named each feeling she ever had, memorised how they felt in her muscles, how they sounded in her voice. She was able to create a compass for herself. Acting was just a way to use that compass as a toy, rather than a tool for survival. She quickly rose to the top of her class. 

Scene work was good for another reason; it kept her distracted on the nights where she felt most alone. It was something to do, and she found herself never bored if she was thinking about how to improve on what she’d already done, or how her classmates could do better. She stayed on that patch of ground for a long time, until she could count five minutes of silence. Then she went back inside and fell asleep. 

***

School was always hard for her after nights like that. She had come a long way since starting acting classes and no longer targeted kids at random, but after sitting outside until one in the morning she would be so tired that she hardly retained any information. She was unfocused and extremely temperamental, so when the teacher called on her she was more likely to snap than give an actual answer. She could read at a fifth-grade level, but still received mediocre marks that would always start another fight when she presented them to her parents. 

At the end of May, she brought home a report card of mostly C’s. Again, her father seemed to think she should be getting better grades, and again her mother maintained that he shouldn’t put that kind of pressure on her. 

“She is seven years old, Cliff.” 

“She needs to be doing better if she’s going to have any kind of future,” 

“It’s second grade. She has time to improve,”

“Not if we keep pretending that grades don’t matter,”

Jade hated these conversations because they always happened right in front of her and it was as if she were completely invisible. They talked as if she weren’t there, and kept arguing until she got herself ready for bed. 

She stayed awake, hammering nails into the wall. She wasn’t supposed to, and she had gotten in trouble for it before, but she had the sneaking suspicion that no one would notice tonight. The fight upstairs was escalating, getting more violent as the night wore on. She had wanted to run over the last scene she’d done in acting classes, but her mind was so full it felt fuzzy. With each strike of her hammer, she released a small amount of tension, and it was enough to keep her from dissolving into a blind rage. 

Upstairs, something broke, and the shattering sound was followed by more yelling and what sounded like a slap or a punch. It was bad enough that she thought about laying down outside, but as she was getting ready to sneak out, she wondered why she had to leave. This was her house, after all, and she was tired of running away from the conflict. She wanted to be a part of it. She wanted to yell and scream and throw things and have someone, anyone recognise the absolute turmoil of rage that beat against her ribcage. She wasn’t afraid, she had the weapon of the secret, and she was going to join the fight prepared to destroy everything if it came to that. 

She slammed her door and marched upstairs. Her mother was alone in the dining room, sweeping up the shattered remains of something. Her father was not in the room. Jade had never intentionally started a fight with her parents before, Christmas morning had been entirely reactive, but she wanted nothing more than to be a part of the chaos. Her body was shaking with adrenaline as she tried to think of how to start a fight. Something bold, something that would announce her presence loud enough that she couldn’t possibly be ignored. 

Her mother had an entire cabinet full of fancy plates that no one was allowed to eat off of, except for when guests were over. They were pristine, brought out only to maintain a certain appearance, but they were never really used. They reminded her of the pictures she had to smile in whenever her parents were fighting. Jade grabbed one of the plates and walked over to where her mother was sweeping, still oblivious to her daughter’s presence. 

“I think I’m going to get some toast,” Jade said waving the plate so her mother could see.

Her mother didn’t look up but said “You should be asleep,” her voice was quiet, almost trembling, and it sounded very far away. 

Jade waved the plate a little harder, trying desperately to grab her mothers attention. “I’m hungry,” she said pointedly. 

Finally, her mother looked at her “Let me make you a sna-” her eyes saw the plate “Jade, what have I said about those plates?”

“Not to use them,” she shrugged in response, gently tossing the plate in the air and catching it, smiling at the look on her mother’s face. 

“Put. It. Back” Her mother growled, jaw tight, teeth firmly pressed together. 

“No, I want to use it for my toast.”Jade tossed the plate again.

“Don’t throw it like that!” 

“Like what?” Jade arched an eyebrow, “Like this?” she tossed it in the air and let it shatter on the floor, right next to the shards her mother had been sweeping. “Oops,” she said, cold and dismissive. 

Within seconds, her mother was standing inches away from her, face twisting with anger. Jade wasn’t afraid at all, in fact, her mother’s reaction made her feel alive. She could feel her heart hammering against her ribcage so hard it might jump out, and all of her muscles were contracting to give her even more power. Her blood was hot in her veins, and she was on top of the world. 

She didn’t even know what her mother was saying, all she heard was the screaming. Finally, she was a part of this fight and it was liberating. She remembered all the fights she’d heard over the years, every word, and she used them all. She had never sworn before but calling her mother a bitch felt really good in a way she couldn’t really describe. Still, it wasn’t enough. “Bitch” was her dad’s word, and she realized she was just rephrasing her father’s arguments. She wanted this to be personal, this was her fight, not her dad’s. Jade searched her brain to find the thing she hated most about her mom, and finally, she found it. She had a power that her mother didn’t. Jade had a secret that could destroy everything, and she hated carrying it around with her. She hated it, and she hated her mother for not seeing it. She felt like she could explode at any second and take everything with her, and her mother didn’t have that power. Her mother shouted something about Jade being “out of control,” and she was ready with her comeback.

“Yeah well if you weren’t so weak and stupid maybe you could control what other people do!” She shouted back. She had heard enough swear words to know how to use them correctly. She had listened to enough fights to know how to string together a provocative insult. “But you’re just a dumb bitch who can’t even realize that dad doesn’t love you!” 

It happened very fast. One moment she was feeling alive and the next there was a sharp sting on her left cheek. The only thing to separate these moments was a flash of movement as her mother swung an open hand. Jade cradled her cheek in her palm, eyes stinging and threatening to cry. She blinked several times, willing the tears back and stared at her mother. The look was full of defiance, daring her to do it again. 

Her mother had a hand pressed over her mouth in a mixture of shock and horror. Tears were already streaming down her face from the guilt of what she had just done. “Jade-I,” she whispered, voice shaking. All anger had disappeared from her face. She took a tentative step towards her daughter, reaching out to comfort her. 

Despite her defiant stare, Jade took a step back.

“Sweetie…” her voice was breaking from the effort it took to not completely dissolve into tears. She sank to the floor and reached for Jade, “Sweetie I didn’t….” but she couldn’t finish the sentence. She began sobbing softly. 

The longer Jade stood there, the harder it was to speak. She could no longer pretend her face didn’t sting, and it was almost impossible to stop herself from crying. She lost track of how long she stood there, looking at her weeping mother, but when she felt a tear cling to her bottom lash, she turned on the spot and walked back to her room. 

She slammed the door and blinked hard, forcing most of the tears back into their ducts. She kept her eyes closed, pressed shut so she could almost pretend she was sleeping and that this was just a bad dream. That she would open her eyes and it would be morning, and her parents would be ignoring each other. She knew it wasn’t a dream though, she knew it was real. The tear that had clung to her bottom lash quivered and fell. She opened her eyes at the feeling of it rolling down her cheek and she wiped it away with her sleeve. She saw her hammer on the floor and threw it against the wall. It left a sizeable hole. 

The next day, her mother made waffles for breakfast and stayed home with her all day. Jade had never missed a day of school when she wasn’t sick, and she had to promise not to tell her dad about it. She was thrown off by this because she was sure that what had happened the night before would be completely ignored. Jade didn’t expect her mother to treat her any differently than usual, but she did. They saw a movie in one of the fancier theatres and ate lunch at an upscale restaurant. They ate ice cream in the park, and when Jade swung from the monkey bars she could tell her mother was actually watching her, not just pretending. There were about a hundred apologies that day, but none of them contained the words “I’m sorry”. But it was better than nothing, and it was better than pretending it hadn’t happened at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks,  
> -TrashDove


	4. Chapter 4

The summer between second and third grade changed everything. Acting classes ended in the first week of June, but the studio offered three different summer camps, and Jade made sure she was enrolled in each of them. 

The first camp was the acting for film program. There were a few kids she recognised from her classes, but she didn’t speak with them. They took field trips to the movies, and they even went to a studio lot to see behind the scenes of a low-budget film.   
When they had their behind the scenes tour she saw how the cameras shot different scenes at different angles. She started sneaking upstairs on quiet nights to watch the midnight horror classics again, this time applying what she’d learned from the camp. She noticed how the shadows danced on the screen to create an illusion of mystery, how the light was set up to make the black blood glisten. There was a technical aspect to these movies, and she was only now learning about all the nuances that went into every shot. It was fascinating. 

The fighting was the same. Most of the time, nothing happened. No one spoke to each other, and no one fought. But every now and then something trivial would happen and her parents would fight all night long. Since her mother had slapped her, the image of her father and that woman was taking up less space in her brain. It still bothered her, and she still felt like she could destroy everything at the touch of a button, but now there were more troubling scenes carved on the inside of her skull. The flash of movement when her mother brought an open hand to Jade’s cheek. Her mother’s horrified sobs. Those took up more room, and were far more recent. 

On those nights that her parents would fight, she wanted nothing more than to join them, but she knew she couldn’t. She wasn’t afraid, just practical. She had been foolish to think she could fight with them, and the slap was a wake-up call that she was just a child, and she had no business being a part of the fighting. That injustice bothered her because fighting was all there was. It was the only language her parents seemed to know how to speak. There was no way to break through to them because she couldn’t fight and she couldn’t make them notice her any other way. 

Her second camp wasn’t nearly as interesting as the first, but she enjoyed herself nonetheless. It was a lot of the games she already knew by heart from playing so many times during the school year. It was fun, but she liked the technical aspect of the last camp. This one didn’t seem to challenge her or require her to think creatively, it was mostly just playing. 

Her eighth birthday fell on one of the days she had to be at camp, so she was forced to listen to a million people sing to her. The rest of her birthday was nice, though she continued to receive presents that didn’t remotely interest her. When she unwrapped a barbie from her gramma, she could tell her mother was worried this would be a repeat of Christmas. Jade took the present graciously but twisted the head off the doll as soon as she was back in her room. 

Her third camp was a musical theatre program. 

On the first day, they played games and talked about musicals. Jade wasn’t particularly fond of musicals, but that didn’t stop her from getting excited when she learned they would be putting on a small performance at the end of the two weeks. She had never performed in front of anyone other than her classmates before, and the idea of being in a musical was exciting. 

The instructor for this one, Chris, was a young man with a lot of energy. He was very nice, and Jade liked him “Tomorrow you’ll all sing a song, but don’t be shy!” He assured them as they left for the night, “We’ll make sure everyone has a good part to play!” 

Jade picked a song she knew from the radio and practised in her room until it was time for dinner. She had never sung in front of anyone before, and she was going to practice all night if that’s what it took to be perfect. But she didn’t get to do that, because at 9:30, her parents started fighting and she couldn’t hear herself sing. She couldn’t even hear herself think. She tossed around on her mattress trying to fall asleep, and she had never been angrier with them. Their stupid fight was going to keep her up all night, she’d be too tired for her audition, and she never got to perfect the song. 

The next day, Jade waited with the rest of the campers as they got called in one by one to do their audition. They were playing a game, led by two of the other councillors, but she was struggling to stay awake. When it was her turn, she squared her shoulders and walked into the room where Chris was listening to all of them. Her posture projected confidence, even though there were bags under her eyes and she felt like she could fall over at any moment. 

He must have thought she was nervous because he gave her a thumbs up and mouthed “good luck.”

She sang her song, feeling completely under-rehearsed and constantly fighting the urge to leave and never come back. She really liked singing and did so whenever the opportunity presented itself. She sang along to CDs in her room, or to herself when she sat outside on nights her parents would fight, but she didn’t know if she was any good. No one had ever heard her before. 

When she finished, Chris clapped and she could see he was smiling. “You’re a natural. Way to go!” 

She smiled for the rest of the day, beaming even wider when she saw she got to play one of the lead roles. Not THE lead, because that went to one of the older kids, but still, a fairly prominent part. 

When her mother picked her up she was still smiling and relayed the events of the day without taking time to breathe “We perform next Friday, you’ll be there, right?” 

Jade’s excitement was contagious, so much so that her mother couldn’t help but smile too, “Of course I’ll be there!” She assured her daughter, “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“It’s for family and friends,” Jade kept talking, “It’s not a big stage, but Chris thinks we can all have 4 people come. You know cause some kids have siblings I guess, or we can invite gramma, but do you think she’ll come?” She continued talking rapid-fire, still not pausing long enough to take a breath. 

Her mother chuckled softly “It’s good to see you so happy about something,” 

“And dad will come too,” She said this matter-of-factly. She knew her parents were good at pretending in public, so of course, they would both be there. They had to be because this was new, and she was going to do something she’d never done before. It was bold and exciting, and as much as she hated them sometimes, she wanted them to see her. 

There was a small moment of silence where her mother adjusted her grip on the steering wheel and bit the inside of her cheek. “Of course he’ll be there.” She smiled, trying desperately to hide her moment of discomfort at the mention of her husband. 

Jade could pick up on the tiny hint of flatness in her mother’s voice, and it faltered her own enthusiasm. She had let herself get caught up in the excitement and temporarily forgot about the fact that no one in her house cared what she did. Her smile faded and she remained quiet for the rest of the drive. 

It was hard to stay unhappy though. Chris was contagious and encouraging. Being around him all day for a week had turned her into a dreamer. He pushed them to be better, but never in a way that was anything other than supportive and kind. He always found something good to say about her performance, and always found one thing she could improve on if she wanted to. She was feeling confident, and she knew that this was what she needed to be doing. Not just musical theatre: acting. Since her second class it was always something she liked, but working with Chris clicked something in her brain, and lit a fire inside of her that even her parents couldn’t put out. She felt at home when she rehearsed her lines, and even though she still thought musicals were a little silly, she was glad she got to be a part of one. 

Jade used to only think about acting when her parents were fighting. It was a good distraction, a decent enough escape. But now, she thought about it all the time. She loved doing it, and as the performance got closer, she only got more excited. She wasn’t nervous at all, she knew it would be great.

On Saturday, she snuck upstairs at 11 pm. Her parents had eaten dinner without speaking a single word, and the house had been painfully silent since. She turned on the T.V and searched through the channels until she found the one that played horror movies at midnight. She kept the volume low so she could remain undetected. She wanted to know everything about classic horror, and the best way to do that was to watch as much of it as she could. She was becoming quite the connoisseur and had developed a taste for different types of storylines, and now had deep opinions on which stories she liked best. “Dracula” was her favourite, but “Psycho” was not far off. Tonight was a werewolf movie, not as interesting to her as vampires or killers, so she focused on the technical aspects of the film. Jade scrutinized the movie as it went on, making mental notes about what she liked. She didn’t notice the stairs creaking under the weight of someone coming down.

“You should be asleep,” her father said. 

She jumped a little at the interruption. She had never been caught before. “I’m just trying to get sleepy…” she lied. She looked at him, noticing he was dressed in jeans, not pyjamas. “Where are you going?” 

“We- We’re out of milk,” he said, bringing a hand up to massage the back of his neck. “I’m gonna run to the corner store. Need it for coffee.” 

“Okay,” she wasn’t sure she believed him, and her tone indicated as much. She assumed he was running out to meet up with that blonde woman.

“You should go to bed, Jade,” his voice was softer and more compassionate than she’d ever heard it. “I’ll tuck you in.”

“I’m not tired yet, I want to finish watching this,” 

“What is it?” 

“Werewolf of London,”

“Isn’t that a scary movie?”

“Not to me,”

“You’re a tough kid,” he placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. It felt strange, alien almost. It was a comforting gesture, but he had never really comforted her before. He had always been cold and distant. Even when they spent time together, they usually sat far apart. 

“Maybe,” she started, hoping she could stop him from meeting up with that woman. “Do you want to watch with me?” 

He didn’t say anything but sat down next to her. He left briefly to microwave some popcorn, and they shared the bag. When the credits rolled, he looked over at her and said “bedtime.” 

He tucked her in and smoothed her hair, her eyes getting slightly heavier as he moved his hand to her back. “Get milk in the morning,” she whispered, not wanting him to leave. 

“It’s gotta be now,” he said, rubbing her back. “Go to sleep.” 

Jade closed her eyes and pretended to drift off. She felt him get up and listened for the sound of his car pulling out of the driveway. When she was sure the coast was clear, she went back upstairs and sat on the couch in the living room. The one that had a decent view of the front door. She was sure she’d be in trouble when he got back, but she was done holding onto his secret, and she finally trusted him enough to tell him that she knew. 

She waited for him. More than once, she caught herself drifting off to sleep, and she had to jolt herself upright again. The hours slugged by, but she stayed awake. At about five in the morning, she started to wonder when he’d come back. It shouldn’t take long to get milk. Or if he was lying, which she heavily suspected, he couldn’t possibly be with that woman for as long as he’d been gone. She was exhausted, but determined, so she forced herself to stay awake. She didn’t notice the room getting lighter with the sunrise. She just stared at the door. Everything faded around it, all noise seemed to disappear. Her focus was directed there and nothing mattered other than her father coming home so she could finally get this secret off her chest. 

“You’re up early,”

Jade hadn’t heard her mother come downstairs but snapped her head to look when she heard her voice. Her mother was standing at the foot of the stairs, still wearing pyjamas from the night before. Jade only looked at her for a moment before turning her attention back to the door. 

“Sweetie…” the concern was evident in her voice. 

“He went to get milk,” she kept staring straight ahead and narrowed her eyes as if the intensity of her glare would make him appear. She’d been in the same spot for six hours, and only now noticed it was morning. Hours ago she figured out he’d lied about the milk, but she was starting to think that maybe he wasn’t with the blonde woman either. She had no idea where he would be that would keep him from coming home before her mother woke up. “I don’t think he’s coming back.” 

***  
Jade refused to think about him. She didn’t acknowledge his absence and would leave the dinner table before her mother could bring it up. She had bigger things to worry about, she was supposed to be in a musical that week. Her first performance ever. That’s what she wanted to think about. She could always talk to him after the show. 

In the second week of the camp, she put all her effort into memorising the finer aspects of her role: perfecting the choreography, memorising lyrics, rehearsing lines, anything to make the performance flawless. Friday was technically the last day of the camp, but the show was on Saturday afternoon. She met the other campers at the studio at 11 to get in their makeshift costumes and go through the performance one more time before the show. 

She sat perfectly still while Chris did her makeup. There was a small team of adults backstage that were working tirelessly in order to get 14 kids ready for a tiny musical. The other campers were giggling; grouping off to be with the friends they made in order to shake off any nerves before the show. 

“Nervous?” Chris asked her, holding her face still so he could apply mascara. 

“Not really,” and she wasn’t. There was a small part of her that wanted to postpone the show so she could have a little more time to prepare before she saw her dad again because she still wasn’t sure what she was going to say to him. But that was replaced almost immediately by a wave of excitement that washed over her and drove away any apprehension. 

“Good, you shouldn’t be. You got a buttload of talent,” he smiled at her. 

The corners of her mouth twitched, which was about as close to a smile as she’d been since last Saturday. “Thanks,” 

“No problem,” he adjusted her hair and deemed her ready for the stage. She sat alone for a little bit before he called them all together. 

“ All right everyone,” he started, speaking loudly over the excited chatter. “You’ve all worked really hard over the last two weeks, and I gotta say I’m really proud of each of you. Give yourselves a round of applause!” Chris started clapping, as did the other adults. The rest of the cast joined in and Jade clapped twice. “Now, go out there and have fun, okay? See you all after the show!”

Jade waited for her cue backstage just tucked out of sight. If she leaned just a little bit, she could see the whole audience. It wasn’t big, just friends and family, maybe about 50 people. Her mom sat exactly in the middle, holding a video camera. She was surprised to see her grandmother, who didn’t usually come down from Oregon. Jade kept scanning the crowd, she found no trace of her father, but she had to halt her search when she heard her cue to come on. 

For the whole performance, he didn’t matter. She had a job to do, and she lost herself in her lines, her performance was the most important thing at that moment. It was liberating, and she felt entirely free. She didn’t need to think about anything, she just needed to do what she had rehearsed for the better part of two weeks. She rode the high of the performance all the way through the show, not daring to let anything quash it just yet. 

At curtain call, she did a final scan of the crowd. Her mother was clapping rather awkwardly, still holding the camera. She couldn’t find a trace of her father. She did, however, find exactly one empty chair. Her heart dropped in her stomach and shattered against her guts. Everyone around her was giggling or hugging, but she tuned it all out. The only thing she could hear was her heart hammering in her ears, the only thing she could see was that empty chair searing in the back of her mind. 

Anyone who tried to talk to her was met with a glare so cold it burned. On the drive home, her mother tried to start a conversation, but she remained silent. 

“You did really well…”

Jade ignored her and bit down on the inside of her cheek to refrain from saying anything. 

“I got it on video…”

Silence.

“I’m so proud of you…”

Jade bit down harder, desperately trying to calm her reeling thoughts. Over and over she thought about the same few images in a nightmarish slideshow. Her father with that woman at the party. Him at the foot of the stairs dressed to leave. The two of them on the couch watching horror movies. The empty chair. She was fighting the rising wave of emotion that threatened to burst out of her at any moment. 

“Jade, say something, please.” 

She bit down even harder, puncturing the skin. Metallic blood pooled on her tongue, and she sucked on the new wound that was now pulsating on the inside of her cheek. It gave her something to focus on. 

When they got home, she went straight to her room and slammed her door. She recalled a week ago when he tucked her in and she let him leave. How she sat up all night waiting for him. How she didn’t cry or think about him because she knew he was going to be at her musical, and she could talk to him then. 

But he didn’t come. He didn’t care. 

Her blood began to boil inside of her, and she clenched her hands into tiny fists. She closed them so tightly that her fingernails pressed into her palms. Her whole body was shaking, and she clenched her fists even harder to try and stabilize the world around her. Nothing made sense to her, she thought she might finally be exploding from all the pressure, but she knew that wasn’t true, even if she wished it was. She wanted to hurt something because she knew that would make sense to her. Broken plates and holes in walls were how she was able to understand herself, and she needed to understand. Her eyes were open, but she could hardly see her surroundings because she was so lost in the rage that was bursting out of her. She saw the hammer laying on the floor and brought it to the wall several times. She left four holes and it wasn’t enough, this anger was bigger than anything she’d ever felt before, and she had nowhere to direct it. She threw things off her desk and heard them clatter against the floor. She threw everything in her sight, not caring where it landed or if it did any damage. Nothing mattered right now except for the overwhelming rage that was coursing through her. 

Eventually, not one item in her room was where it was supposed to be. She had thrown everything. She had left two more holes in the wall, but couldn’t remember picking up her hammer after setting it down. She looked around, surrounded by total chaos and feeling completely helpless. 

Jade raked in a few shaky breaths and sank to the floor. She sat there for a long time, head throbbing. Eventually, the anger was replaced by exhaustion, and she walked over to the bed. She had thrown off all the blankets and pillows but was too tired to gather them from the floor. She flopped down on the bare mattress and tried to sleep. She didn’t have the energy to fight off the sleeplessness, and instead of tossing into a more comfortable position, she lay in the same spot; exhausted and unable to fall asleep. Slowly, a new feeling crept its way into her chest and made its home there. She didn’t know what it was, she had never felt it before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> -TrashDove


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for leaving so many good comments! I know a lot of people are excited for baby Jade to meet Beck, Cat, and others. I swear it's gonna happen! She's not ready to build relationships with people yet, and I want to keep her away from especially Cat until she gets to a place where she's able to create some semblance of a friendship. Enjoy the chapter, leave a comment, and as always, thank you for reading!

It was the morning after her musical, and Jade lay on her side on her still bare mattress, barely awake and unable to move. She looked around at the disaster she’d created in her outburst the night before. The sheer level of destruction overwhelmed her, and she had no idea how she could possibly begin to fix everything. She was not usually a messy child, not a neat freak in the traditional sense, but she had a system. She had a way of going about life that made sense to her, and her room had always reflected that. It was set up so she could find the important things without a second thought, and now everything was tossed about in absolute chaos. The dead beetles she had found under a rock were now laying on the carpet next to the shattered remains of their jar. Her CDs were tossed around, several of them broken, and her rock collection that mostly consisted of irregular pebbles was nowhere to be found. 

She had been angrier than ever. The incomparable rage made her unaware of her surroundings, unaware of her actions, and looking out at the room she couldn’t remember breaking half of what lay tossed on the floor. She certainly would have never hurtled her beetles on purpose. But whatever she had felt while she destroyed her room was gone and there was a new feeling in her chest that she couldn’t name. It bothered her. It made her heartbeat just a little too fast, and it shortened her breaths just enough that she could notice the difference. It hurt the back of her neck, and it made her stomach churn. She didn’t know what this feeling was called, but she had no interest in naming it, she only wanted it to go away. 

Eventually, there was a light knock at her door and her mother entered. “Oh my god, Jade! What did you do to your room?”

“Threw stuff.”

Her mother walked around, taking in the damage. “You can’t just put holes in the wall, that can be really bad for the house…” she trailed off as if deciding that the holes weren’t important anymore. She sat down on the bed beside her daughter and slowly reached a hand out to soothe her hair. 

The new feeling amplified all of her senses. Noises rang louder in her ears and colours were so bright that they almost hurt her eyes. Touches were more present on her skin. Jade flinched at the contact, lowering her head to escape the gesture. “Don’t touch me.” She didn’t want to be touched right now, she didn’t want to be comforted or reassured or soothed. 

Her mother drew her hand back, slowly and unsure. “It’s noon,” she spoke softly, “Gamma's still here I was thinking we could all do something today,” She placed a hand on Jade’s back between her shoulder blades, already forgetting her daughter’s last request. Jade didn’t have the energy to repeat herself, so she remained silent. Her mother pressed on “If you’re not feeling well, that’s okay too.”

Jade remained silent. Having her mother so close, just sitting, was nice. It made her relax just the slightest bit, and she wanted to stay exactly like that for a long time. Just the two of them, quietly sitting together.

“Or, maybe we all tidy up your room! Get it set up again….those holes….” 

“I don’t want to,” she deserved this mess, she had created it. It was an absolute disaster, and she had never seen anything that more accurately conveyed everything she couldn’t figure out how to say. 

“Sweetie, you can’t keep it like this. Come on, get up!” She smiled encouragingly, motioning for Jade to join her. 

“I don’t want to move,” she whined. It was the truth. She didn’t want to move, or clean, or go anywhere, or be awake. She didn’t even want to breathe. 

“Jade…” her mother whispered, “do we need to talk about your fath-”

“-Just leave me alone!” she snapped, cutting her mother off mid-sentence. She didn’t want to be left alone, she wanted her mother now more than ever. Jade needed her to sit silently and share in this uncertain emotion. To be close enough to witness, but far enough away that she wasn’t intruding. But she couldn’t figure out what she wanted to say, and she couldn’t figure out what she needed, or what would make her feel better. She didn’t know if anything would. Telling her to leave was the only way to stop her from talking, even if it’s not what Jade wanted.

Her mother left. 

Eventually, she was able to force herself upright and she tidied her room alone. She had destroyed it alone, she would fix it alone. She took a trash bag from the kitchen without being seen and busied herself with throwing out all the broken things. She mourned her beetles as she tossed them in the bag, leaving the glass on the floor to be picked up later. She found most of her irregular pebbles and put them back in a row on her desk. The CD’s that she hadn’t snapped, she placed back in their cases, and she stacked them alphabetically next to the player. She put the pillows and blankets back on her bed, punching them back into shape. Finally, she picked up the debris, small chunks of drywall, her shattered glass contained for her beetles, and shards of broken CD’s. One of the sharper pieces cut the inside of her index finger as she reached for it, and she sucked on the wound for a moment. She went upstairs for a band-aid and found her mother and grandmother chatting in the living room. 

“Honey, it’s good to see you!” Her grandmother greeted her, “Great job yesterday, you were so good.” 

Her mother saw her, still sucking on her cut. “Jade, take your fingers out of your mouth,”

“I cut it,” she pulled the finger from her mouth and revealed the jagged red trail the glass had left in her skin. 

Both her mother and Grandmother sprang into action. Her mother went for the first aid kit and her grandmother held her finger under the running water to clean the wound. Jade thought they were both overreacting. It was just a stupid cut. If they could see the state of her emotions they would hardly be fussing over a two-inch wound that barely went deep enough to bleed. She insisted on putting the band-aid on herself. She didn’t want their help.

She did, however, accept their offer to help her finish up in her room. Once all the drywall dust had been vacuumed up, and all the glass was safely off the floor she decided it was acceptable again. It looked much better, and she felt a small sense of accomplishment. Jade spent the rest of the evening with them, listening to them praise her performance over pizza. 

“Your grandfather loved music, you know,” her grandmother said, “I’m sure he was there in spirit, and he would have been so proud that you’ve got such a voice.”

Her grandfather died before she was born, but she heard so many stories about him. She usually loved hearing about him, he was a cool guy. He once tackled a mountain lion and he had his nose blown off in the war. Both of these were qualities that Jade thought made him very impressive. But tonight, nothing reached her, not their praise, not his stories. She was too lost in that feeling that was still in her chest, weaker than it had been in the morning but still scratching away just below the surface. It wasn’t strong, but it was persistent and she wanted it to go away. It didn’t. 

***

Summer ended, and Jade entered third grade. That unnamable feeling had not left her alone since it first crept into her chest several weeks ago. It followed her through the day, always nagging at the back of her mind. It made her second-guess the most trivial decisions, and even getting dressed for school was something that took longer than usual. She picked one of her purple t-shirts, but as she put it on she began to wonder about it. Had he ever seen this shirt? Would he have liked it, would he have even noticed it at all? It was hard not to notice, it was so bright. She put it back and chose a grey t-shirt instead. But this was too boring, she’d fade away. And why did she care if her dad would like it when he wasn’t even there? The feeling rose from her stomach and stung behind her eyes. She just needed to make a decision, why was that so hard? She settled with the purple. 

Her mother was quiet over breakfast, but that was fairly typical. They hadn’t been able to hold a conversation since her grandmother went back to Oregon. Every time her mother tried to start talking, Jade would shut her down and leave to be alone. The feeling that stayed with her all the time was so new that it alienated her from herself. She couldn’t make sense of anything, and she didn’t want to be around anyone until she could. It was a big breakfast, always on the first day of a new school year, but Jade had never felt less hungry. The feeling had moved back into her stomach where it twisted around until she felt sick. She boarded the bus without eating. 

She was always alone at school, but it had never felt so lonely before. It used to be that she could walk up to anyone and intimidate them into doing whatever she wanted. She had never been scared to approach people. But this new feeling had taken away some of her boldness and nearly all of her conviction. She was watching, listening, waiting for something to happen that would let her feel anything else. 

The classroom was more or less identical to the one from last year. There were a few new faces, but it was mostly kids Jade already knew, kids that were just smart enough to leave her alone. They spent some time introducing themselves, going around in a circle and repeating each other’s names. 

“I’m Jade,” she said and sighed before continuing. This was so stupid. “And that’s Greg, and Benny, and Stella, and Mateo, and Lisa, and Rei, and Megan.” 

There was a knock on the classroom door. Mrs Abe, her teacher, invited them in.

A girl her age entered the classroom. She was shorter than jade, but not by much, and had a similar frame. She was dressed in clean, bright clothes, and had a shy smile on her face. Her blonde hair was braided so carefully, that Jade could tell someone had to have to done it for her. Behind her, there was a man, and judging by their matching blue eyes, he was her father. “Sorry we’re late,” he said, “Just got here last night.”

“You must be Emily,” Mrs Abe said, “Everyone, Emily just moved here from Hawaii.” 

There was a small amount of chatter, Jade sized up her new classmate. 

“You can sit next to me!” Said a boy named Noah.

“Or me!” chimed in Lisa. 

“Settle down everyone,” Mrs Abe instructed, “Emily, why don’t you sit here, next to Hannah?”

Emily smiled and turned to her father. 

“Looks like you’re all set,” he said. “have a good day, I’ll see you after school.” he hugged her and left. 

Emily joined the circle, a little shy at first, but eventually giggling along with the rest of the class when someone forgot a name or had to think really hard. Eventually, it was her turn. “My name is Emily, and that’s Hannah, and Regan, and James, and Toby, and Connie, and Sam, and Devon, and Jade-”

Upon hearing her name, Jade’s muscles tensed. There was a fire burning in her stomach, the heat coursing through her veins and radiating in her body. She knew exactly what this was, this was anger. She was angry. For a split-second, she was relieved by the presence of an emotion she could recognise, but just as quickly that unnameable feeling started to creep back into her chest, chasing away the temporary heat. Frantically, she looked around to try and find something-anything- to focus on that didn’t leave her alone again with that awful new feeling. Her gaze settled on Emily. Immediately, she decided she hated everything about her new classmate, right down to her perfect braid. No observers could have possibly noticed this, it all happened in the second it took for Emily to say her name. Even Jade was oblivious to the nuance of her newfound hatred.   
“-and Greg, and Benny, and Stella, and Mateo, and Lisa, and Rei, and Megan.” Emily finished, seemingly pleased with herself for remembering the names. 

They did this five more times until Noah went and had to remember the names of all his classmates. The whole time, Jade kept her focus on Emily, forcing herself to stay angry so she wouldn’t have to deal with that unnameable feeling. She focused on the small details, like how Emily’s shoes had a small scuff on the toe, how she laughed too much, how she smiled too wide. She hated every new detail she found and could feel her anger slowly rising again.

She knew that she couldn’t actually do anything with this anger, nothing obvious anyway. Last year she was prone to fits of rage, ready to explode at any moment and she would revel in the destruction she left in her wake. She would take her anger out on anyone who came too close to her and it was a problem. That behaviour brought the principal into her parent’s argument, it had labelled her a problem child. She couldn’t be that reckless again, she couldn’t lose control, couldn’t be violent, couldn’t make a scene. But she could learn things about Emily, and she could use that knowledge to refine her hatred, buff her anger, make her more resilient to that unnameable feeling that she refused to deal with. 

It started with questions posed at random intervals in the first month of school. Questions so innocent that nobody looked for signs of malintent. No one could hear the ice in her voice when she would ask them. 

“Who does your hair?”She asked at recess on a Wednesday. Someone had to be behind those perfect braids and buns. 

“My mom,”

So Emily had a dad who drove her to school and a mom who did perfect hair. She had parents who were invested in her and who cared about her education. Parents who loved her enough to be there. How great. 

Not everything she learned was useful. Some days she simply asked what book Emily was reading, or what game she, Megan, and Hannah were playing. That didn’t tell her much, she mostly just asked so she could interrupt them. She didn’t like that Emily already had friends. 

By October, Jade knew enough that she was able to fire undetectable insults at the other girl while she walked by. 

“Mom didn’t do your hair today?” She asked with just a hint of snarkiness in her voice. 

“No, she did,” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was blind...” 

“She’s not?”

“....Oh.” 

It was always silly things like that. Not-really-insults that flew under the radar, and only caused damage if someone stopped to think about them. She tried to limit herself so no one would catch on to what she was doing, but each tiny comment alleviated some of the tension in her shoulders. Eventually, she noticed a small look of pained confusion on Emily’s face. Jade relished in the way the other girl’s eyebrows stitched together, how her ever-present smile faltered for a moment of hurt. It was gratifying for Jade to know that she could still affect the world like that. That even when she was desperately trying to avoid that unnameable feeling, she could be powerful enough to create her own anger. That even though she spent most of the night hiding from that feeling, she still had enough boldness to make someone else feel even a little bit upset. 

It’s not that she wasn’t actually angry, because she was. She was angry at everything. She had more rage inside of her than she knew what to do with, and being mad at Emily was not an act. But she had to fight in order to stay angry because as long as she was angry she didn’t have to deal with that awful feeling that made her so small in the world. She had to choose between anger and that awful pressure in her chest, and anger won out every single time. 

It was easier now that she had a specific target. Last year she was unpleasant to everyone, and now she was able to hold onto the anger just a little longer until she would see Emily again. So it came out a lot quieter, it was harder to notice. Her snide comments and backhanded compliments didn’t alert any of the teachers, they didn’t alert anyone. It seemed like Emily was the only one who noticed or cared what Jade said. She was able to operate in complete secrecy.

Life at home was quiet without her father, both she and her mother were determined not to mention his name. They just didn’t talk about him, but then, there were a lot of things they didn’t talk about. Conversation was always very short, very awkward, and completely one-sided. 

“How was school?” 

“Fine.”

“Are you excited for acting tomorrow? What do you think you guys will do?” 

“Don’t know.” 

“Hey, I was thinking, after dinner, we could watch something. I stopped at blockbuster and I got-”

“-I’m gonna go to my room.” Jade got up in a rush, the chair scraping loudly across the floor. The sound was almost enough to drown out her mother’s next words.

“...the Nightmare Before Christmas…”

Jade heard but was already halfway across the room by then. She didn’t want to change her mind, she didn’t want to curl up on the couch with her mom and watch movies. She didn’t want a relationship with her mother, or with anyone else for that matter. 

Never mind that her mother finally chose a movie she might actually like. Never mind she wanted nothing more than to feel loved. But it didn’t matter because she also wanted to be alone. That way, she could create a place where abandonment wasn’t possible because no one else was there. It was better that way. 

In the privacy of her room, she wondered if her mother would ever stop trying. If she would just give up one day and leave to go be somewhere else. If there were conditions to her love that Jade was yet unaware of. She wondered if there was something so wrong with her that it just repelled other people. If she was so twisted that she was unlovable, down to her core. Was something so wrong with her that it could never be fixed? Was everything her fault?

She realized she was holding herself, arms wrapped around her torso and hands grasping her biceps. That unnameable sensation closed around her rib cage, stealing the air from her lungs. Her surroundings melted around her as she desperately tried to take in air, all the while her heart hammering in her chest so hard she thought she might die. Desperately, she thought if she could be angry she could get rid of this feeling, so she tried to focus on all the things that made her blood boil. She hated lying, she hated her father, she hated musicals and empty chairs. These thoughts only made the sensation worse, and she dug her fingers even more forcefully into her skin. Her eyes were wide open, her breaths were shallow, her heart now hurting her with the intensity of its throbbing. She was small and weak, alone in her room. Her mind reeled trying to find something that would stop her from feeling so insignificant. 

She thought about all the times her anger had made her feel powerful. Every time she had seen one of her classmates cower at the sheer sight of her last year, and most recently, the last time she saw that pained confusion on Emily’s face. Her breaths became slightly longer, and she relaxed her vice-grip on her upper arms. Slowly, she settled into a relaxed state of anger, eventually bringing her hands down to her sides. There were small bruises on her arms where she had gripped them, but she hardly noticed. 

She fixated on her anger that made her powerful and banished the idea that she was to blame for anything. Nothing was her fault. It was the world’s fault. It was her mom’s fault, her dad’s fault, Emily’s fault. Blaming the world was easy, and it fed the anger that she had fought for in her moment of vulnerability. Her sole focus now was on doing whatever it took to never feel like that again, no matter who she hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks,  
> -TrashDove


	6. Chapter 6

Jade held onto her anger for a number of reasons. She’d earned it, for one, through years of absorbing her parents’ fighting, through her father leaving in the middle of the night, through her mother pretending that all of this was perfectly fine. She, more than any of her classmates, deserved to be angry. It was her right. She also found it stopped her from dealing with that other feeling, the one she still refused to name or acknowledge. The feeling that could stop her heart or steal the air from her lungs if she gave it too much power. If she was angry, she was able to keep the feeling at bay, and she only needed to remember three things. 

The first thing was that she couldn’t trust anyone. People were unpredictable, unreliable, and they were prone to acting without any regard to her own plans. Keeping that in mind, she isolated herself even further, no longer talking to anyone unless it was necessary. She refused to let herself be lulled into a false sense of security only to get hurt. 

The second thing was that the world owed her. She’d been hurt enough, and deserved compensation for that pain and abandonment. It wasn’t fair that all of her classmates had loving, devoted parents and got to spend their days in a state of calm and peace. So, the world owed her something. She should be allowed to take whatever she wanted because she had never been given what she needed. 

The third, and possibly the most important, was that nothing was her fault. It was her dad’s fault, or her mom’s, or her teacher’s, but never her’s. Her actions were not her fault, neither were her bad grades or her harsh words. When she would make Emily cry, the tears weren’t her fault. She couldn’t take accountability for that without also accepting blame for every fight she had to listen to, and she wasn’t ready to feel the weight of all that guilt crashing down on her. 

If she could remember these things, she could stay angry, and it was the only thing powerful enough to chase away that unnameable feeling which she refused to deal with. She treated these as personal creeds and constructed her life so she could avoid ever feeling so lost and broken. It worked, she was surviving. Since the last breakdown she experienced no emotion she couldn’t control, and her anger was always powerful enough to chase away anything else. She kept herself together with these three rules, like scotch tape they held her just well enough that she avoided complete collapse. Sure, she was holding on by a thread of anger, but at least she was holding on, it was more than she could say for the last few months. She was able to make decisions again, she was able to eat without feeling sick, able to approach her classmates again when she was bored. She felt like a weaker version of herself, but she was no longer completely alien in her own body. 

She couldn’t trust anyone, the world owed her, nothing was her fault. 

Of course, the rules had their repercussions. She met her first setback in acting classes, and suddenly she wasn’t the star pupil. In December they started working on building trust with scene partners, something Jade refused to do. 

“You need to trust them, Jade,” Melody encouraged her as she stood on a table with the class behind her, their hands outstretched. 

“She didn’t do it last week either,” whispered a girl. 

“Come on!” groaned another one of her classmates. 

“You can do it, Jade!” Called out the particularly talkative boy. This spurred the others to clap encouragingly. 

Jade shook her head and crawled off the surface, the class groaned collectively. She had refused to participate in trust falls for two weekends in a row, and would rather let the whole class stare as she stood still than ever blindly assume that anyone would catch her if she fell. They could say whatever they wanted, trust was stupid. 

She turned to Melody, who was still smiling softly. “We can try next week,” she said in the same encouraging tone she used for the students who were bad in their scenes or who didn’t know how to embody a character. It annoyed Jade that this was something Melody expected her to do, and it was beyond frustrating that she wasn’t able to do it. She was supposed to be good at this, she was supposed to enjoy this, but the stupid trust fall was something she couldn’t do. 

It was more than just the trust falls. She refused to let her scene partners make even the smallest decisions and dictated every aspect of whatever performance she was a part of. She was controlling to the point that no one wanted to work with her, even if she was still the best actress. She needed to make every choice, and would not listen to the input of whoever she was paired with. The resulting scene was always well done, and Melody showered her with praise for her ability to create nuanced performances. Even still, no one wanted to be stuck with her, and after class she noticed them all peeling off together, and she could hear them making fun of her. One of the girls called her crazy. It didn’t bother her, but it did make her mad, and it strengthened her idea that people couldn’t be trusted. 

She was frustrated with this, namely because she couldn’t figure out what trust had to do with being a good actor. She was still able to embody whatever character she needed, still able to twist her face into whatever emotion the scene called for. It didn’t matter what other people were doing, because she was killing it. Still, she was aware that her spot at the top of the class was in jeopardy, all because of the stupid trust fall. This did nothing to sway her, she absolutely refused to trust her classmates, even if it did affect her position in the class. 

Outside of acting class, she spent even more time alone. She had completely given up on having any relationship with her mother. Jade was sure that eventually, her mother would stop trying, so the only sensible thing to do was push her away now. It was sometimes difficult to completely avoid her mother, she was forced to have dinner at the table with her and often dragged along to movies or parks on the weekends as some sort of performative normalcy. She hated the outings but did not voice her many complaints. She offered up virtually none of her emotions and even fewer of her thoughts. Conversations continued to be one-sided attempts from her mother. 

When she was allowed to be alone, she continued her education in the world of horror. At the library at school, she would check out books about monsters or ghosts, trying to visualize how these stories could be filmed for the screen. She stayed up late reading these books or scribbling ideas for new monsters. Her favourite was a tall figure that consisted only of shadows, save for a wide mouth that held a thousand pointy teeth. It could see through lies, and strip the flesh off of a skeleton in 10 seconds. It hid just beyond any source of light and waited to prey on anyone stupid enough to assume it didn’t exist. Jade liked drawing it in her notebooks, and imagining where in school it might be lurking and which of her classmates would be torn to shreds before they could even scream. She knew not to draw it on anything her teacher would see, she didn’t trust Mrs Abe to understand it. 

When she wasn’t reading or drawing, she was sneaking upstairs to watch movies after her mother was asleep. She learned more about life through the movies than she should have and was briefly mortified when she witnessed two college kids stripping down in the woods. She was glad they were murdered almost instantly because how anyone would do something so disgusting was beyond her. Soon, there was a list of things she had learned from her unsupervised access to r-rated horror. Of course, there was always a warning message on the screen, advising young audiences away from the mature content, but Jade ignored these. She should be able to do whatever she wanted. She learned about sex, she learned about death, she learned about drugs, things that none of her other classmates knew much about.

Of all the adult topics, death was the easiest for her to understand, and it fascinated her the most. Her interests took a brief detour from cinematic horror as she delved into research on death. She picked up books about the subject and memorized the facts she found most interesting. She had an extensive list of famous last words that she would think to herself when the days were lonely or unfulfilling. “I’m bored with it all,” was something she enjoyed muttering when she was given a test that she didn’t want to take, or presented with another unsatisfactory grade. She also learned about the science of death, the most common causes, the way that life expectancy changed over the years, and how bodies decomposed. This extended knowledge made her special because she knew other eight-year-olds didn’t know about this, and sometimes she would scare her classmates by giving them explicit detail on exactly how a body decomposes. How long it took, what insects were involved, the amount of goo. 

Jade had an uncanny ability to hold on to the information she found interesting, but this did not always transfer over into her academics. She was still a mediocre student at best and had no desire to learn about the history that her teacher presented. The world owed her, and so she shouldn’t have to learn anything that didn’t interest her. Math was so boring when she could be thinking about horror movies instead. She’d spend classes thinking about the tropes she was starting to learn, some she loved, and some she didn’t. She loved the creepy kids and wanted nothing more than to be cast in a horror movie. It was that dream that forced her to master the Kubrick stare in her bathroom mirror. It came in handy whenever she felt she wanted to terrify Emily. 

Tormenting the new girl was Jade’s final outlet. On the weeks when acting classes weren’t enough, or when her research in the macabre didn’t satisfy her rage, she would find ways to upset the blonde. Slowly, things got worse for Emily. With the new rules, Jade had gotten back her boldness. She was no longer afraid to approach her other classmates, and soon she had orchestrated all of them against the new girl. Almost overnight, Emily lost her friends at school, no one would talk to her out of fear of Jade. When Emily was alone and vulnerable, that’s when Jade would find her to deliver whatever final blow she thought of. It wasn’t every day, not even every week, but Emily’s isolation was ongoing, and it reminded Jade that she was powerful. Some evenings, Jade entertained the thought that perhaps she was being too mean, that maybe Emily didn’t deserve any of this, that she might be taking things too far. But she quashed those thoughts with one simple reminder: nothing was her fault. 

***  
Things remained mostly unchanged. Days and weeks melted together, Christmas passed and she still heard nothing from her father. She still barely spoke to her mother. It was a good system, and nothing happened to threaten her new structure.

Then one Friday in March, she noticed her mother prepping in the mirror. It was a behaviour she’d seen in movies, and she had no doubt what was going on. She was going on a date. For a moment, that unnamable feeling closed around Jade’s throat as she thought about what this might mean. Obviously, it didn’t matter, her father had left in August and they hadn’t heard from him since. Still, she couldn’t help but feel betrayed. They were supposed to be suffering together, and her mother was just going to move on? What would happen if, when, her dad came back? 

“Rachel will be here in half an hour,” her mother explained, swiping a pink lipstick across her mouth. “I’ll leave her money for pizza,” she adjusted a stray piece of her hair. Jade tried to imagine herself doing the same thing in the future. 

She would grow up, after all, and presumably go on dates. She knew other kids had crushes, but she never did. She had long ago decided she didn’t want to be married, she was convinced that love was a hoax. But sometimes, when watching movies she would see a cute boy and his girlfriend kissing. Yeah, they usually died afterwards, but Jade knew that kissing was what teenagers did, even the ones not in horror films. She would be a teenager someday. She thought about what her first kiss would be like. 

“I know I don’t have to tell you to be good,” her mother ran a hand over Jade’s hair, smoothing it down, “And please listen to her.” 

“Wait, what happened to Kevin?” Her last babysitter. He was nice. 

“Moved away,” she explained. “But you know Rachel, she lives down the street.” 

Jade had a vague idea who her mother was talking about, but it stung. Was she not worth a regular babysitter? Perhaps her mother was so desperate to leave that just anyone would do. She had very low expectations. 

But Rachel was really cool. She was 15, played the piano, and could play any song Jade asked her to. Jade had tried to teach herself on the grand piano in the den that no one knew how to play, but the whole process frustrated her. Everything about that piano frustrated her because it was yet another thing in the house that was completely fake. But Rachel could play it and even taught her the names of the keys.

They stayed at the piano until the pizza came, at which point Rachel took out the CD’s she’d brought and they listened to bands Jade had never heard of before, and she loved it. Her mother listened to chart-toppers, and her father....well, she didn’t know what he liked. So this new music was cool, it was raw and angry. Edgy. She and Rachel rocked out in the living room while they finished their pizza. They kept the music on and drew at the kitchen table, Jade drew her monsters and grim reapers, and Rachel was the first person to see them. She thought they were cool. 

The next week, her mother went out again, and Jade was immediately excited to spend the evening with Rachel.

Over the next six weeks, that became the routine. Jade would save up her drawings throughout the week to present to the older girl, always putting on a show of apathy when she inevitably praised the art. They would listen to music, watch movies, eat pizza, and Jade was sure that Rachel was the coolest person she knew. And pretty. She hoped her first kiss would be with someone as cool and as pretty as her babysitter. 

She would have loved for everything to stay the same, but one Thursday at dinner her mother told her all about the man she had been seeing. His name was Matt. He would be coming to dinner the following evening. No Friday night with Rachel. 

“No,” was all she had to say. 

“You’ll like him,” her mother insisted, but then stopped and tried a different approach. “Or, at least, give him a chance. Please?”

Jade narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Instinctively, she hated this new boyfriend, and meeting him did nothing to change her mind. 

They sat around the table on Friday evening, eating off the stupid fancy plates. The unnameable feeling was back, so Jade wasn’t hungry. She occupied herself by moving bits of food around with her fork. Matt kept asking her questions, but she gave single-word answers as much as possible. She didn’t want him to know anything about her, he wasn’t her dad. 

“Your mom tells me you really like acting. That’s pretty cool,” he said, trying to make eye contact but Jade refused to look at him.

“Yeah,” 

“Is that what you want to do when you grow up? Be a movie star?” His voice was kind, friendly, and he was genuinely curious. He seemed to be interested, and she could tell he was trying. 

She hated him for it. She had never told anyone she wanted to be an actor, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him. “Don’t know.” 

“I get it, sometimes it’s nice to do something just for fun,” 

That wasn’t a question, so she didn’t need to answer it. She wished that her mother hadn’t brought him home, or better yet that she hadn’t started seeing him at all. Everything about his presence caused her to tense up, and she wanted him to go away forever. He finally left at about eight, and her mother knocked on her bedroom door ten minutes later.

“What do you think?” she asked conversationally as she entered the room. 

“I don’t like him,” it was the most honest she’d been in nearly four months. 

Her mother let out a sigh, “I was afraid of that,” she walked over to where Jade was sitting in her desk and pulled up the extra chair. “I really like him.” 

“Stop seeing him,” it wasn’t a request. It was an order. The unnameable feeling was swelling in her chest and she was doing her best to muster up enough authority to push it aside. 

“I’m not going to do that,” her mother reasoned, “But you don’t have to see him again for a while, how about that?” 

“Not good enough,” the feeling was growing more intense. Why was her mother so comfortable with this stranger, and why was she letting him take her away?

“Sweetie, I really like him. I want so much for you to like him too. And I want him to like you,” she smiled, still not rising to match her daughter’s anger. “But it’s okay if you’re not there yet-”

“-It’s not okay!” Jade shouted she was now desperately fighting that feeling, “Stop seeing him!” she tried again. She could feel tears stinging behind her eyes, but she refused to cry and blinked them away. Her hands curled into fists and she bit the inside of her cheek. “I hate him!”

Again, her mother stayed calm. Where was the mother who had screamed until two in the morning, the one who slapped her across the face not even one year ago? She wanted that mother back, the one she could fight with. “You don’t even know him, Jade.”

“I know he’s not dad!” She screamed, it was the first time she’d spoken about her father since he left. It was confusing for her to think about because she hated her father for leaving. She hated even the thought of him, but she hated her mother more for moving on. “And I don’t think you should just go around dating the first loser you bump into!”

There was a flash of hurt behind her mother’s eyes, and Jade hoped it would turn into anger. “I’ve known Matt for years, actually, not that it matters…” she trailed off. She turned a concerned face towards her child and sighed. “Jade,” she began softly, “your dad left us. And it hurts so much but I don’t think he’s coming ba-”

“- he left YOU.” Jade interrupted. “And maybe he wouldn’t have if you loved him the way you clearly love Matt.” Immediately her whole perception of her father changed. She was now convinced that there was no better man anywhere, that his abandonment had been entirely her mother’s fault. After all, hadn’t it been her mother’s explosive anger that had driven him into the arms of that blonde woman? Additionally, now that she knew her mother and Matt had known each other for years, wasn’t it entirely possible that her mother was also cheating? After all, his leaving wasn’t Jade’s fault, it couldn’t be. Nothing was. 

Her mother said something else, still not rising to anger, but Jade was too focused on the apathy in her voice to hear her words. She kept screaming, getting angrier and angrier as she tried and failed to push away that other feeling. Eventually, her mother could not possibly reason with her, she was incomprehensible and shut off. 

Jade could feel that unnamable feeling growing even stronger, and she feared her mother would see her dissolve into it. Her breaths were slowly getting shallower, and her heart was beating against her throat. She would not let herself do this in front of her mother, and with the last of her strength was able to scream “Leave me alone!” She was relieved when it worked.

The moment Jade was sure her mother was upstairs, she crumpled to the floor and grasped her biceps once again hard enough to leave bruises. She indulged in the feeling until she was able to remember her rules. People couldn’t be trusted. She released her arms and stood up from the floor. She was a little lightheaded but was able to cross the room and slide into bed. The world owed her. She forced herself to take a deep breath, it was a little shaky but it brought necessary air into her lungs. She did that several more times. Nothing was her fault. She closed her eyes, and eventually drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time writing this one, sorry that it's a little later than I would have liked. I appreciate all the comments, and as always...  
> Thank you!  
> -Trashdove


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little longer than the other ones have been, but I hope it's not too disproportionate. I really wanted to explore both parts of the chapter and start making room for future fluff and future conflict. As always, thanks for reading, and I hope to hear from you!

Jade hated Matt with every fibre of her being. Every time her mother left to go on a date, Jade was sure she would never return. She was constantly on edge, mentally preparing herself to be left again. 

Worse still, that unnameable feeling was back in her chest, and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to stop herself from exploding. She would scream until her mother would be forced to leave her alone, or until she exhausted herself. It was a cycle she didn’t know how to break, and between her outbursts, she felt more like a zombie than a person. 

It hurt. All the time. She was carrying around this knowledge that she was about to be deserted again, and it warped her sense of the world. She was so twisted inside that nothing was familiar to her except for those moments when she was screaming; fighting with her mother, unleashing the rage on Emily. Those moments when she could make people cower around her. She started to wonder if that’s who she was supposed to be.

After yet another fight with her mother, Jade sat wide awake in her room. She was pulling nails out of her block of wood so she could nail them in again because she needed to hit something. The task was tedious, and she was growing more frustrated when the nails came out bent. Eventually, she gave up and snuck into the kitchen to grab a plate instead. She wasn’t allowed to break the plates, of course, she wasn’t, and of course, her mother would discover the missing dish in the morning and then there would be another fight, but Jade couldn’t bring herself to care about that. Maybe that fight would be the last one ever, and she wouldn’t have to keep worrying about when her mother would eventually leave.

She heard her mother’s voice from upstairs. It was quiet, and she could barely make out what she was saying, but it stopped her in her tracks. She was on the phone with someone. Curious, and suddenly not concerned about the plate, she grabbed the other cordless from its base in the kitchen and snuck back down to her room. She joined the call, keeping her hand over the mouthpiece so her mother wouldn’t hear her breathing. 

“I don’t know what to do with her, no matter what I say it’s the wrong thing,” her mother sighed, clearly at the end of her wits. She didn’t want her mother talking to people about this, not when she herself had no one. Why did her mother get to vent to someone? Their fights weren’t for other people to witness, and Jade was hit with a deep sense of betrayal. 

The feeling only worsened when she heard Matt on the other end. 

“We can take this slow if you need, I’ve waited this long.”

“I just don’t know what to do. She shouldn’t get to dictate who I see, but she’s making it seem like I’m choosing you over her, and,” Jade could hear the tears in her mother's voice.

“Hey,” Matt’s voice was soothing and quiet, “We’ll figure this out,” 

“She’s so much like him sometimes,” 

Jade didn’t need any clarification on who her mother was talking about. She hung up the phone and threw it against the wall so the back came off and the batteries spilled out. So she was just like her father, was she? Good. It confirmed every suspicion that she’d had. Jade was now sure that Matt was just her mother’s way of replacing her father, and herself. Considering they were so much alike. She held onto the rage of that moment until she saw Emily at school, the teachers didn’t see it, they never did. When the blonde ran away in tears, Jade only felt a little better. Hurting Emily wasn’t enough, hurting her mother wasn’t enough. She was still so angry it burned her. 

Sometimes, she would go through the days with so many conflicting emotions that she was too confused to do anything. She thought she was angry, or scared or upset, and she couldn’t figure out which. In addition to that, she had the unnameable feeling in her chest. She couldn’t breathe or think or focus. The days were blurring together, and all the emotions inside her were pushing so hard to get out. It was a nightmare, and even acting classes did little to help her sort out what was going on in her mind. 

She still refused to do the trust falls. The games were fine. One weekend, Melody wanted them to get in touch with their own emotions, and lead them through several exercises that were supposed to help them understand themselves. 

“Imagine you’re walking into a forest…” Melody’s voice was far away and misty, and Jade tried with all her might to picture the trees, but nothing came to her. They were supposed to be meditating, relaxing so that they could feel their bodies.

For a moment, she could see the woods outside her gramma’s house. The dark shade that the trees would cast, the deep green leaves of the ferns… but she couldn’t hold on to the image. It was replaced by her worst daydream of waking up alone in the house to find that her mother had run away with Matt. She was almost certain that this would eventually become a reality. 

After that, Melody instructed them to scream. “It can be cathartic,” she said, “To let go of all that energy.” 

Jade listened to her classmates as they shouted. She stayed quiet. She worried that if she started screaming, she might never stop. That stung her eyes, but again, she was sure she had stored up enough tears that if she let herself cry, she would drown before she was done. 

She wasn’t ready to start dealing with any emotion that wasn't anger. They were all too intense, too confusing, and she was scared of how they made her feel. So she would make Emily cry instead, or her mother. Seeing them upset allowed her to identify a part of herself that she was denying, and aside from making her feel a little less small, it let her deal with the emotion at a safe distance. 

School was more challenging than ever. 

She was never able to focus in class, had no interest in trying, and was always too angry to retain any information she didn’t find interesting. Her grades were abysmal, and in June there was a meeting to decide whether she should be held back. It was not the first time she had to sit aside while adults talked about her, but it hurt more than last time. She wasn’t stupid, was she? She tried to listen, but couldn’t, and when she thought that her situation couldn’t possibly get any more depressing, Matt showed up. 

Despite Jade’s best efforts, her mother had refused to stop seeing him, and he was now a regular face in her life. She’d given up on trying to fight it, even though it was one of the many things that made her angry. Sometimes she thought that no one really cared how she felt, and it wasn’t worth her energy to have the same fights only for her mother to keep choosing him. He was now coming over for dinner on a weekly basis, and Jade usually just sat quietly until he left. She didn’t like him, but she was done fighting it, she hated losing. She still wasn’t sure what he was doing there, at her school, when her mother was supposed to be talking about if she was so stupid she’d have to repeat third grade, but she never got to ask him. After he greeted her with his usual warm smile, he was directed into the office with the other adults. She wanted to barge in after him and demand that he not be a part of whatever it was they were talking about. Instead, she sat rigid in her chair trying to pretend that she didn’t care about what would happen next.

When her mother came out ten minutes later, her face was set and harsh. She looked ready to yell. At that moment, Jade was sure she’d been held back, and she didn’t have enough time to hide her reaction. That unnameable feeling had been stirring in her stomach the entire time, and her eyebrows stitched together, pleading as she made eye contact with her mother. 

One look at her daughter and her face completely softened. She crossed the room, ran a hand over her head, and smiled. “We’ll talk about it later, right now, let’s just get home.” 

Jade nodded and followed her mother out of the school, still trembling. They were by the car before she had the nerve to ask. “Do I have to do it again?” She’d wanted to sound confident and strong, instead, the voice that came out was barely a whisper. 

“No,” her mother sighed. Matt stood beside her, swaying a little awkwardly, Jade wished he wasn’t there. “But, we’re going to do some work over the summer, okay?”

“Okay,” Jade slid into the backseat and buckled up, pressed her head against the window. Slowly, the unnameable feeling diminished into a quiet tension, but it never really went away anymore. 

Her mother got into the front seat and looked at her through the rearview mirror “And I think we’ll have to cancel the camps.”

Jade couldn’t believe her ears. Her mother couldn’t take away acting, it was the only thing that could make her feel anything other than indescribable tension or paramount rage. She snapped her head up from its resting position to glare at her mother’s reflection. “You can’t do that!” 

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” her mother insisted. “Right now, let’s just be happy you don’t have to repeat the third grade.”

“No!” She screamed, “Promise first you won’t take away film camp!” 

“I’m sure she doesn’t want to take away film camp,” Matt stepped in. He was doing that more and more lately, and at that moment it did nothing but intensify her rage. “But, what we’re looking for is some improvement, you gotta catch up, kid.” 

She especially hated when he called her “kid”. She scowled at him and took a deep inhale to prepare her rebuttal. 

“We will talk about this later!” her mother reiterated with a finality in her voice that stopped Jade before she could start yelling. “For now no promises,” she sighed, finally putting the key in the ignition and starting the car, “Let’s go home.”

Jade refused to sleep if he was in the house, she would always wait until he was gone. That night was no exception. She pretended to be asleep for when her mother checked on her at half-past nine, but she waited up listening for when Matt’s car would pull out of the drive. After waiting like that for ten minutes with still no sign of his leaving, she moved to the stairs, listening for the end-of-evening farewells. Instead, she could hear them talking in the den. She had to strain her ears to listen. 

“You can’t take away the camp,” Matt’s voice was low, barely above a whisper, and reassuring. He had a very calm way of talking that could settle her swirling mind, and it confused her because she absolutely despised him. 

“I don’t know what else to do,” her mother sighed. “Cliff used to always say that if we didn’t get on top of her grades right away, eventually they’d be a problem. I can’t believe he was right,”

“He’s not, and you know it. No kid wants to fail, you saw how scared she was.”

Jade was confused, why did he think she was scared? What did she have to be scared of? Sure, she spent much of her time daydreaming different scenarios for her inevitable abandonment, and yes, she hated the constant feeling in her chest that reduced her to a shaking mess, but that feeling didn’t have a name. It certainly wasn’t fear. 

“I know, but she needs to catch up, she fell behind,” judging by the tremble in her mother’s voice, she was on the verge of tears. “I don’t know how else to get her to understand that this is serious.” 

“She’s a smart kid, Ellen. She’ll figure it out, but you can’t take away the thing that makes her feel normal.” 

Jade didn’t know why he was pretending to care. She didn’t know who gave him permission to act like a parent, and what made him so sure he knew her. All she knew for sure was that he was the only one who seemed to understand, and it wasn’t his job. She couldn’t figure out why her mother was oblivious, and she wasn’t sure what to make of Matt defending her. She couldn’t tell if it made her angry or not. She didn’t want to keep listening to her mother talk about her as if she were this incomprehensible problem, and she especially didn’t want to hear Matt be the only one who tried to understand. Jade hated both of them and whatever team they were forming, she did not want to be a part of. 

***  
Her mother let her stay in film camp on the condition that she did an hour of schoolwork every night. Jade was relieved to still have her outlet, so she reluctantly chipped away at worksheets with Matt at the kitchen table in the evenings when her mother worked late. He always played music, and the background noise made it easier to think. Sometimes, she would catch him in the middle of an air guitar solo while she answered multiplication tables, and when he caught her looking he would play harder. She’d roll her eyes and turn her attention back on the worksheets. 

He was around constantly, watching her if her mother was busy with clients. In July, he was over almost every evening, and while he used to just leave after dinner, he was starting to spend the night. Sometimes he would stay for several nights in a row, always making breakfast in the morning. Her mother made better eggs, and he couldn’t get the milk to cereal ratio right to save his life. Just watching him pour the milk in his bowl was enough to make her mad. Milk was disgusting. Still, he would make breakfast whenever he stayed over, and Jade wondered why he tried so hard to pretend to care. She hated him for it. 

Film camp ended and she was onto her second program for the summer, an art camp. It wasn’t as fun as acting, but she spent her days drawing and painting, so it wasn’t bad. As long as she was creating, she was able to siphon off some of the excess emotions that usually only fueled her anger. Whether it was acting or drawing didn’t matter, both activities helped her manage that confusing and exhausting swirl of feelings. She just liked acting better. 

The camp ran until four, and her mother was at work until five, so Matt picked her up every day. She was getting used to his presence, and she was starting to expect his behaviours. She knew when they were listening to Green Day, he would be playing air guitar, that when her mother worked late, he would take her out for hamburgers or cook pasta. She had finished all of the worksheets that had been recommended for her to catch up, so there was nothing stopping her from shutting herself away in her room to ignore him. But instead, she would bring books up into the den, and read in the armchair while he played his music and did sudoku on the couch just opposite her. 

One evening, she looked up at him in the middle of one of his air guitar solos. He saw her and started strumming faster, moving his mouth to match the riff in the song. When the solo ended, she gave him a pointed eye roll and clapped slowly.

He smiled, “Thank you, thank you,” he said sarcastically and bowed in her direction. 

Jade couldn’t remember the last time she laughed, even though it was barely a chuckle. She was glad when he didn’t draw attention to it. She was beginning to notice that when he was around, the raging fire inside of her was dampened a little. That she wasn’t angry, and she wasn't running from that unnameable feeling either. It was as though she could just exist around him, and that she was allowed to be tuned into the moment instead of thinking three steps ahead to defend herself. He was safe. 

He knew things about her, not because she told him, but because he paid attention. When she turned nine, his was the only present that suited her. It was a book, and she didn’t think much of it at first, but then she started reading it. It was full of mystery and dark magic, evil schemes and supernatural elements. Even though she had no intention of liking it, she read it all in one sitting. 

She asked him about it a few days after finishing it. Apparently he’d read it when he was younger, and thought she might enjoy the story. She didn’t tell him he was right. 

She liked driving home with him. He had a cool car, a convertible, and she liked the way the wind whipped her face, and how he didn’t mind driving a little longer to go by her favourite spots. She thought it was cool when the other kids at camp ogled the car.

On the Monday of the second week, he pulled up, music blaring from the radio. He listened to classic rock, not as cool as Rachel’s music, but better than her mother’s. She liked how he cranked up the radio when there was a song she liked. She waved at him and skipped down the steps to go home. 

“Your dad has a really nice car,” one of the boys said. 

She wasn’t sure why she didn’t feel the need to correct him, but she didn’t. She knew he wasn’t her dad, but would it be so bad if he was? “I know,” she said and slid into the backseat. She even waved at the boy when Matt pulled away from the building. 

Jade listened to him as he sang along to Fleetwood Mac, horribly flat, but smiling all the same. Her mother was in San-Marino overnight, and he was going to stay with her. They had just picked up a few groceries. She still hadn’t made up her mind about him and wasn’t sure if she found his off-key singing annoying or amusing.

The course was approaching and he looked at her from the rearview mirror. “C’mon, help me out, I know you know this one!” he pleaded. 

She rolled her eyes and looked out at the city. He was annoying.

“You can go your own way!” He screeched, struggling to hit the notes, but not even a little dissuaded from his limited skill. He wasn’t deluded, he knew he couldn’t sing, this was purely for his own entertainment.

She felt a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, and as the next line came up, she joined. “You can call it another lonely day,” 

He whooped from the front seat, and quickly looked over at her, “That’s what I’m talking about, take it away!” 

They sang while he drove, and even though they were home before the song finished, they stayed parked in the driveway until it was done. She was still smiling. He was fun. 

“You got killer pipes, kid,” he said, unlocking the front door. “Seriously, you planning’ on being a rockstar?” She knew he was joking, but she could tell the compliment was sincere. 

“No,” She followed him into the kitchen and set her lunchbox down on the counter. 

“Come on,” he probed, “You got the talent. Dare to dream a little.” He started unpacking the groceries. When his back was turned to the fridge, she grabbed the tortilla chips and hopped up on the counter.

As quietly as she could, she opened the bag and started snacking. His back still turned to her, she watched as he looked for the missing bag. She took a loud bite out of her next chip, causing him to turn around and see her. 

“You sneak,” he teased, taking a small handful for himself. “Not too much though, save room for dinner.” 

“Whatever,” but she listened, taking one more handful before rolling up the bag and handing it to him. 

They spent the evening listening to his CD’s while he made dinner, sometimes she would sing along with him, other times she would watch as he mimed different instruments. His air drumming was exceptionally ridiculous, and it made her laugh, actually laugh. He made several more rockstar jokes before she thought to correct him.

“Actually, I want to be an actor,” she had never told anyone. She had never even said it out loud. 

“Your mom says you’ve got a knack for that, too,” he said, pulling dinner from the oven. “Said she can’t believe how talented you are,” he smiled at her.

Jade wasn’t used to this warm feeling that spread throughout her body, but she liked it. 

When her mother came home the following day, Jade was quietly happy that Matt didn’t leave right away. The house was happier when he was there. Her mother smiled more often, she would dance in the kitchen while he played his music, and pull Jade from the couch to join her. Matt was so bubbly that it was almost contagious when he would put on air drum solos, her mother would catch her laughing and beam at her like she couldn’t believe her ears. 

It was like her mother was a whole new person, only Jade could remember her being like this before. She remembered her mother’s silly voices and her lame dancing, it had just been so long since she’d seen it. It was nice, but it made her wonder why Matt got to have this version of her. Why had she been stuck with the version of her mother that yelled and hit and let her feel so alone and small? Why hadn’t she been enough?

One evening in August, Jade was tossing on her mattress. It was 11 pm, and she couldn’t fall asleep. She had been sleeping much better lately, completely soundly, not stirring or waking up until the morning, and she was unsure why that night was any different. That unnameable feeling closed around her throat, and instinctively she knew: this was the anniversary. One year ago, her father tucked her in for the last time and left under the guise of buying milk. She had waited all night for him before realizing he wasn’t coming back.

She pulled back her covers and tiptoed into the living room. She sat on the couch and turned her attention to the door, imitating her exact posture from a year ago. She wasn’t sure why she did it, she knew he wouldn’t come, not now. 

“Thought I heard you,” her mother’s quiet voice drew her attention momentarily. Jade watched as she walked over to the couch and sat beside her. “I was hoping you wouldn’t remember it was today,” 

Jade ignored her and turned her focus to the floor, a small heat searing her cheeks. She curled her hands into fists and fought the urge to cry, or scream, or punch, or whatever it was she wanted to do. She was shaking with confusion over all the competing emotions, and she had no idea how to express any of it. 

The arms that wrapped around her were warm and inviting. They pulled her in closer and for the first time in years, she didn’t feel so completely alone. She pushed herself into her mother’s side, and let herself be held. The tears that rose in her eyes started to fall before she could stop them, and she stopped trying to hold it all together. Some part of her was finally being seen, and she allowed herself to keep sobbing softly into her mother’s shoulder. 

Her mother held her closer, and smoothed her hair. Jade clung to her, terrified to let go. “I’m here,” she said as she rubbed her child’s back and squeezed her shoulders. 

It was all Jade needed to hear. The words reached her and did just enough to calm the part of her that was sure she was alone. She kept crying, only stopping when she finally fell asleep. When she woke up with the sun, she was still on the couch curled into her mother. There was a blanket over the two of them, and her mother’s heavy breathing indicated that she was still asleep. She stayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wash your hands, stay inside, read books.  
> Thanks,  
> -Trashdove


	8. Chapter 8

Hippies like Melody always talked about how a good cry could relieve tension. Then again, Jade had personally seen her acting teacher drinking green juice, talking about the chemicals in non-organic foods. So she didn’t put much stock in what Melody had to say about anything other than acting. But, credit where it’s due, she certainly felt different after crying for the first time in 3 years, it just wasn’t in a good way. She’d done everything imaginable to avoid the tears Refused beyond reason to acknowledge the emotional impact of everything that had happened, and now it was all over, one moment had destroyed what she’d been working on for a year. It was like her heart was breaking all over again, old wounds that had scabbed over were fresh, and she was back at square one. She was exhausted, and every time her mother left for work, her guts would knit together. This feeling was now extended to Matt, who was not living there and sometimes stayed at his own apartment closer to his job. Each time he left, she was sure she would never see him again. People can’t be trusted. She couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to forget that. Stupid. 

What was even more frustrating was that she didn’t want to go back to before. She liked dancing with her mother in the kitchen, she liked when Matt screeched along to classic rock, and she didn’t want to hate either of them anymore, but she was mad that somehow they’d both been able to convince her to trust them. She continued to participate in activities enough to let herself enjoy the company: usually it worked. But sometimes she would be struck by that unnamable feeling, and she was left fretting over how long it would last. Whenever she thought about that, her heart would sink even further in her chest, already cowering so it wouldn’t be broken again. 

Even though she didn’t want to, she started to pull away from them. She had some respite during the day when she started fourth grade in September, but on evenings and weekends, she had to find creative ways to dodge them. Her mother was especially difficult to avoid ever since they’d shared that moment on the couch. She seemed to think that her daughter’s tears were a sign that she was ready to talk about things or build a relationship again. She wasn’t ready for either. Every talk she had with her mother was only two steps away from turning into a conversation about her father, and then she’d have to figure out how to wriggle out of that. 

“Jade, I’ve given you so much space,” that was how her mother usually broached the topic, “I think it’s time we talk about-”

“No!” That was her favourite way of shutting down a conversation. She’d scream “no” and then lock herself in her room until she deemed it safe to come out again. Being alone in her room was no longer favourable, she’d come to quite enjoy reading in the living room. She liked being close to her mother and Matt, even though she wasn’t trying to develop her relationships with them. She hated her mother for asking questions that forced her to spend more time alone. She never wanted to think about him again. She was not afraid to fight about it; as long as they were fighting, she wouldn’t have to own any of the more unpleasant feelings. 

Once, her mother followed her after she walked off. 

“We need to talk about this,” she said, following her daughter down the stairs to her bedroom.

Jade turned around in the doorway, not moving aside to let her mother in, “No!” She slammed the door. 

There was a small knock, but the door opened again immediately. “You can’t just slam the door like that,” she walked in and closed it softly.

“I don’t want to talk about this!” 

“Well, I’ll talk then,” she crossed the room and sat down on Jade’s bed, reaching out for her. “Come here,”

Jade stood in her spot, arms crossed. She didn’t move to join her mother but didn’t yell at her to leave. As long as she didn’t need to say anything. 

“Your father was not a nice man,” she began.

“Don’t say that!” Jade shouted, even though she wasn’t sure she disagreed. 

“It still really hurt me when he left,” she clasped her hands together and looked up at her child, “and I didn’t know what to do, and I’m sorry.” 

Jade refused to meet her mother’s gaze and stared at the floor instead. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her eyes were stinging, her hands were in fists. She’d been hurt, confused, mad, upset, she’d felt so many things when she realized her dad was never coming back. She’d had to face it all alone, her mother was off trying to paint a pretty picture for her to live in without realising that she had no idea what she was feeling. She was still dealing with that unnameable feeling, and how was she supposed to know what that was when the only other person she had to turn to wasn’t acknowledging what happened. It was about a year too late to talk about it now, she’d figured it out by herself.

“I don’t care,” she growled, blinking hard and clenching her fists even tighter. It was the truth, she didn’t care if her mother was sorry, because sorry didn’t change anything. 

“I was so mad at him, I’m still mad at him.”

“I’m mad at you!” She shouted, blood boiling. 

Her mother offered an empty smile and nodded solemnly. “I know.” 

“No, you don’t!” She could feel herself losing control, her whole body was tensing up. “You don’t know anything about how I feel-”

“-Jade,” her mother moved to reach for her. 

“No!” she swatted the hand away, “Don’t touch me.”

“Did you just hit me?” Her mother’s voice barely reached her, the words weren’t registering. “You can’t hit people.”

The laugh that passed through her lips was humourless. A perfect mixture of incredulous and malicious, “Was I not supposed to copy you?” 

Her mother opened and closed her mouth a few times, losing the words in her throat. “I have made so many mistakes,” she finally said. “But I need you to be able to talk to me about this,” 

“No. I don’t need to talk to you about anything,”

“It’s not healthy Jade,” 

“Go away!” 

“Not until we talk about this,”

“I hate you!” 

She couldn’t remember what happened next, if her mother responded or what she said, all she knew is she was shaking on the floor of her room completely alone. Sometimes, when she lost herself like that, when she couldn’t breathe and every muscle in her body was screaming, she wondered if this whole feeling was just punishment for existing. She didn’t deserve a mother and that’s why she pushed her away. She didn’t deserve a father, and that’s why he left. That she didn’t even deserve the air in her lungs, and that’s why she couldn’t breathe. This whole feeling was nothing more than a reminder that she had no place in this world, and nothing, not even her own body, wanted her. 

When her breathing was regular again, and she had enough control over her thoughts, she had the decency to worry about whether or not screaming “I hate you” had been enough to make her mother leave. She bolted up the stairs, heart still beating too fast, frantically searching for any evidence that confirmed her fear. She expected to find an empty driveway or a deserted house, and she was fully prepared to spend another night waiting up on the couch in the living room. She worked her way through the empty kitchen, her stomach churning with each step until she had a clear view of the living room. 

Matt was there, he hadn’t been earlier, but he was now, and he had his arms wrapped around her mother who was crying. She stood still for a moment, unsure if she would be welcome or not in this moment, almost afraid to say anything lest they turn her away. The longer she stood there, the harder it was to pretend that she didn’t desperately need to be held, to be included and reminded that she wasn’t alone. She couldn’t just be an observer, she needed proof that she was a part of something other than a fight. 

“Mom?” 

They both turned around at once, her mother running a wrist underneath her eyes to catch the still falling tears. “Yeah, sweetie?” 

Jade tried to say something, but no words came to mind. She couldn’t find an apology, and she couldn’t vocalize the relief she felt because she refused to talk about the absolute state of panic from before. Sometimes, words weren’t enough, especially when she didn’t have the right ones. Instead, she ran around to join them on the couch, climbing into the space between their bodies. She stared dead ahead, and did not speak, she had nothing to say. She only wanted them to be close. 

“Jade…” her mother started, but from the corner of her eyes, she could see Matt shaking his head. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, her mother reached a hand across and rested it on her elbow. 

They stayed like that for a long time, every now and then, Matt would give her a soft squeeze or her mother would run a hand gently across her face. Eventually, she looked up at her mother, meeting her eyes and returning the small smile. “I don’t hate you.”

“I know.”

“Don’t…” but she trailed off, she wasn’t sure if she had the nerve to ask what she wanted to. “Don’t leave,”

“Never,” 

***  
School was better than the year before. She had caught up over the summer with the worksheets and was making an effort to pay attention in class. It was still boring, and sometimes she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering away from reality, but she usually brought herself back to focus on the class. Now that acting classes had started up again, she spent a great deal of time thinking about her performances or daydreaming scenarios where she would be incredibly famous for starring in a movie. It was always difficult to pull herself out of that fantasy to focus on something as trivial as multiplication.

In October, she got a B+ on a math test. It was the best grade she’d ever gotten, and she tried to downplay it but struggled to contain her own enthusiasm. She wasn’t surprised when her mother stuck it to the fridge, but she was taken aback by the stream of tears from her parent. 

“I’m just so excited about this!” she kept insisting, “You have no idea how happy this makes me. Come here,” she pulled Jade into a tight hug. 

Jade had always known her mother to be prone to tears, but this seemed excessive. It was a little embarrassing, but not in a bad way. It was a nice change to feel embarrassed by something so positive. She didn’t try to wriggle out of the embrace. 

“Now, come on, let’s get ice cream!”

Jade pulled away and looked at her mother, confused. It was 5:30. “Right now?” 

“Yeah, to celebrate! Just the two of us, let’s go,” 

She nodded, not willing to pass up the idea of ice cream for dinner. They got stuck in traffic on the way, but her mother cranked the radio. Jade wasn’t as into the top ’40s as her mother was. She preferred Rachel’s rock and Matt’s classics, but the song was one she didn’t hate. An older one by Dr Rhapsody, she bopped her head along with the rapping. It was catchy. 

She and her mother sat on a table outside the parlour, people watching and eating their ice cream. Jade had a double scoop of cotton candy, and her mother had some monstrosity of a sundae. 

“Do you think she’s famous?” Her mother pointed to a tall woman in expensive clothes. 

She was maybe in her early twenties, had long brown hair and eyes that were hidden behind sunglasses. She was tanned, but not naturally, and she had full lips. “No, but she wants to be.” 

“Singer? Actor?”

“Model. She’s probably from like, Idaho or something and thought she was special enough to leave,” Jade shrugged and licked her ice cream. 

“Do you think she’ll make it?” Her mother asked. 

Jade regarded the girl again, she was pretty. Very pretty, and something about how she held herself made her look graceful and kind. “Yeah.” Whether she actually believed it or not was irrelevant. 

“Me too.” 

They kept talking while the sun sank in the sky, slowly dimming their surroundings until the streetlights came on. Jade talked about her scenes in drama classes on the weekends, her favourite lines and characters, the games she won and how she won them. When asked about school, she answered, though unenthusiastically. 

“Do you think you’ll make any friends this year?” her mother asked, eager and expectantly. 

Jade shrugged in response. She still didn’t have friends and spent recess alone. She watched groups of kids playing together and wondered if she would ever have that for herself. It couldn’t be that difficult, nearly ever kid she knew had at least one friend, so it would logically follow that she could make one if she wanted to.

“It might be nice to have some friends, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” Usually, she was sure she didn’t want friends. Sometimes, though, when she saw kids laughing with each other, she felt a brief pang of something she thought might be loneliness. At this point, she didn’t think it mattered if she wanted friends or not: she didn’t know how to make one. For so long she’d intimidated her classmates, focusing on being as unapproachable as possible, and she wasn’t ready to give up on that front in order to get to know people. 

Jade knew that she could interact with her classmates. That had never been an issue. She could get them to do whatever she wanted, and she always had power over them. But friendship sometimes felt like it was a secret language that she just couldn’t learn. She valued her individuality too much to integrate into a group, and she was uncompromising, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be alone all the time.

Emily wasn’t in her class this year, but she saw the girl in the cafeteria or on the playground. She hadn’t spoken to her since school started, but seeing the blonde with her new friends made her angry. What did Emily have that she didn’t? Why did people like her so much? Sure, she was pretty, but there had to be more than that. She knew that eventually, she could take away Emily’s new friends, that it wasn’t a question of if but when. That was still up for debate, but she’d know the right moment when she felt it. One day she’d be tired of being alone and Emily, with her smug face and perfect braid, would be enough to send her over the edge. Waiting for the right moment made sense, there was no point rushing this. She entertained herself in the meantime by brainstorming exactly how she would re-instate Emily’s isolation. It was as good as anything else to pass the time. 

At home, things were changing. Slowly. She was starting to notice that her mother cried more often, but over the silliest things. Once, she cried at a commercial on t.v. Matt was almost never at his apartment anymore, which she didn’t mind but was certainly an adjustment. 

Jade remembered a time when she had ice cream every day because her dad was drunk. Now she had ice cream every day because her mother wanted ice cream every day. She was starting to get sick of it, and it got to the point where she was passing on dessert. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, any of it, it was a couple of minor changes. 

At the end of the month, just before Halloween, her mother sat her down in the living room. Matt was at his apartment for the first time in over a week, so it was just the two of them. She asked about her day and Jade answered, but she could tell her mother was only half listening. 

“I have some big news,” she said, apprehension heavy in her voice. 

Jade’s heart dropped. Matt was gone. That’s what this was about, it had to be. She took in a deep breath, preparing herself for the news. It didn’t matter, he didn’t matter, he was annoying, she hated him anyway. 

“This is pretty big, and I just want you to know that we’re all going to get through this together. It’s exciting, actually,” she brought a hand to rest on her belly, “but you’re going to be a big sister!” 

Jade blinked a few times, still unsure if she’d heard correctly. “I’m….what?” 

“I know this feels very fast, but I’m pregnant,”

“No.”

Her mother let out a nervous laugh, “Yes, for about three months now,”

“You didn’t tell me?” She had momentarily been angry, but the information that her mother had hidden a pregnancy had tensed every muscle in her body. 

“I only found out about a week ago. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you,”

Jade clenched her jaw, this wasn’t supposed to be happening. She and her mother and Matt were all getting along just fine, they were a perfectly functional makeshift family. There wasn’t room for a baby. She didn’t want a baby in this house. But there was nothing she could do, sometimes things were just true and no amount of screaming would stop this from happening. This was it, this was the moment she’d been dreading. She was being replaced. 

Her mother continued talking, but Jade was done listening. She nodded when appropriate and provided one-word answers if necessary, but she did not elaborate on how she felt. It wasn’t that she wasn’t mad, she was furious. But she knew that getting mad now was a waste of her effort, it didn’t matter what she felt. This was happening, whether she liked it or not. 

She had never thought she would ever be a sibling, and she wasn’t sure what to think about it. Her response had been anger because that was her response to everything, but as she got ready for bed, she didn’t really feel angry. She didn’t know what she felt. Thinking about the baby was difficult because it didn’t exist yet. It was just a small lump in her mother’s belly, but it would change everything. She knew it would. She was going to be different when this was all over, and she couldn’t figure out if that was a good or a bad thing. She tried instead to think about what her sibling would look like, maybe they’d have the same nose. Maybe she could make sure that it liked the right kind of music because any sibling of hers was going to be cool, that was just necessary. She could make the kid watch horror movies, that could be fun. Maybe they’d have that in common, and in a few years, she’d have this little kid living with her who listened to cool music and watched cool movies, and maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

She shook her head to stop herself from getting too carried away. All those “maybes” were so far away that they weren’t even tangible yet. She didn’t even know if she was getting a brother or a sister. She only knew two things: there was going to be a baby, and she was going to be a big sister. 

And maybe she was a little excited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks,   
> -Trashdove


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all doing well right now, or surviving or whatever your new normal is while the world is on pause. I realize this is far later than what I usually post, and I am sorry for the delay. Here it is though, I hope you enjoy! Love all the comments, and as always, thank you for reading!

Everything was changing, and it was all too fast. 

Before she’d even begun to think of the implications of having a baby in the house, Matt moved in. So she had to decide how she felt about that, too, and she wasn’t sure. That’s the thing that no one seemed to understand, she didn’t know. She never had enough time to think about it. After Matt moved in, they repainted the kitchen. Then the furniture changed, and they got a fish tank. Then they started renovating the upstairs. The noise was constant and it always smelled like paint. Her mother asked if she wanted to help choose colours. It was just a trap to interrogate her about becoming a big sister. 

“It’s a big change, are you excited?” 

She gave a noncommittal shrug as an answer. Mostly because she still didn’t know what she was feeling. Sometimes, she thought she might be excited when she’d think about how she’d have to teach and protect this baby when it came. How she’d have to be sure they liked the right stuff and that they were safe. The thought of having someone who would be so new and mouldable was interesting. It made her feel warm, and for a moment, she’d find herself getting excited. 

But that only lasted until she started to feel overshadowed by a baby that didn’t even exist yet. 

Everything her mother did involved the baby, somehow. When they went out on weekends, her mother dragged her into every baby boutique they stumbled across. Jade would stand there looking at all the pastels while her mother spoke to different salespeople about the proper material for a changing table. 

She never got to be excited for long, and that was the worst part. She wanted to be ready, she wanted to love this baby. She wanted to be a good sister. But every time she thought she might be feeling the right thing, the moment was stolen by more baby talk. So, no, she wasn’t excited. 

It didn’t matter how she felt, really. If she was mad or afraid, that wouldn’t matter because the only thing anyone cared about anymore was that stupid baby. She didn’t like being around when her mother and Matt talked about baby names, and she refused to participate when they would ask her to. But, they weren’t home that often anymore.

Rachel was over at least twice a week after school because Matt and her mother were at any number of baby-related activities. There were classes, apparently, and also appointments. It was okay, she liked Rachel. Her babysitter was the coolest person she knew, and now had an eyebrow ring in addition to her several earrings. 

“Did it hurt?”

“Nah, not really.”

She wanted to get her eyebrows done, but Rachel said she’d have to be 16. 

Jade hated being reminded that she was still a kid, especially when Rachel did it. She was pretty small for her age, but twice as ready to be a grownup, she thought, anyway. She was ready to be a teenager, and go out and have friends, and smoke in cars and kiss cool people. Cool people like Rachel, who Jade thought was so effortlessly beautiful. Still edgy, and interesting. Sometimes, she’d catch a glimpse of the older girl playing the piano, and she could feel her heart skip a beat. It confused her, but she wasn’t sure she hated it. 

Sometimes, while they were out running errands, Jade would sneak off to music stores to browse through the CDs for more. She kept an eye open for the bands that Rachel always played, she really liked the older girl’s music. It spoke to her in a way she’d never felt before. The songs touched a part of her that was so angry all the time, and it made it feel okay. Her rage didn’t need to be terrifying, she could listen to it, feel it, and move on. She’d lie on the floor and let the sound take over her other senses, and listen for herself in the lyrics. The music understood her when nothing else did, and so she listened as much as possible. 

She wanted to write something like that. With music that made her anger feel heard and lyrics that touched every awful part of her and made it seem beautiful. She scribbled drafts in notebooks, always crossing them out because they weren’t right yet. They were usually only a few lines at a time, pressed between sketches of monsters and ideas for plays or movies. She carried these notebooks everywhere because they were her only source of expression outside of acting classes on the weekend. 

Jade had thrown herself into acting. When she was in the middle of a scene, her mind turned just as rapidly as always but with energy and wonder. It was so freeing to feel like that, it was like being a kid again. Even more, she was good at it! When she was acting, she felt like it mattered that she was alive. Nothing else made her feel like that. 

Usually, it just felt like she could disappear and no one would notice. It was pretty easy to believe actually, she just had to look at it logically. Her father didn’t seem to care where she was or if she was okay. Her mother only talked about this stupid baby. Matt was going to finally have his own kid. She didn’t have friends. No one wanted her. 

But in a scene, none of it mattered. All the tension melted away, and she got to be expressive while hiding behind the lines of a character. This was it. This was what she could do. She couldn’t get good grades or be a good daughter or a good sister, or be happy. But she could act. If that’s all she had, she was going to be the best at it. She studied, even harder, the actors on television. She even paid attention to the mainstream movies and popular actors. They had to be doing something right. 

She could only get away with it for so long before her mother would catch her in the den to bombard her with questions about the baby. Then she’d have to retreat into the basement just to avoid the constant baby talk. There was an air of excitement that blocked out everything else, including her. 

In January, they asked if she wanted to know whether she was having a brother or a sister. She didn’t. She didn’t want to get attached to the thing that already robbed her of any significance she thought she’d earned. Her mother was clearly ecstatic about the baby and Matt, well, she wasn’t his kid anyway. 

The baby made her blood boil. She hurt things when they made her angry, so she learned as little as she could about her sibling. She didn’t want to hate them or hurt them. She wanted to love them, but she had no idea how, and no one gave her enough time to figure it out. The best she could do was feign indifference. 

***  
Sometimes, she mourned the loss of the life she thought she was finally getting. That Matt was going to be her new Dad, and her Mom would love her again and it would be like there wasn’t this gaping emptiness inside of her. She thought she was finally getting that, they’d all had so much fun over the summer. She thought she just wasn’t enough for them, that’s why they were having this baby. She would never be enough for anyone.

The thought made her incredibly lonely, and she resumed her habit of sneaking out to stare at the sky at night. She wanted to believe there was more than this, like maybe someday someone would love her the way she needed, that she could ever feel safe and comfortable and happy. But gazing through the haze to find stars in the sky crushed her hopes that anything brighter might ever be waiting for her. The world was unfazed by her pain, and no one really cared if she felt alone. 

Her mother was due in mid-April, and since that was a month away it was the only topic of conversation in the entire house. Jade felt more invisible than ever, and she was finally ready to do something about it.

She was sitting against the fence on the playground, ripping grass from the ground and glaring at Emily. The blonde still had friends. Jade thought about her perfect braids, and her perfect dad, and her perfect friends, it was all so annoying. From the ease of the girl’s smile, Jade could tell that no one ever stopped her from being excited. She wondered what that must be like. To be this carefree person, who everyone just seemed to adore. People like Emily got to have everything, and it wasn’t fair. Jade knew she would never know what it felt like to have people like her so quickly or care about what she did. It burned, and she finally felt the moment was right to do something. If she couldn’t be happy, at least Emily could be miserable. 

She stood up and squared her shoulders, being sure to look as menacing as possible. She shook her fingers through her hair once just to give herself a chance to back out. 

“Hey, Emily,” her tone was innocuous enough, but everyone knew better. The girls that had been just beside Emily were already backing away. “Having a good year?”

“J-Jade,” she breathed, “hi, Uhm.”

“Are you going to invite me to play?” she raised an eyebrow, giving the other girl a chance to retaliate. She would love a fight right now. 

“I,” Emily looked around nervously. Her friends were watching tentatively. “I wasn’t going to.” 

Jade looked at the other girls, she recognized one of them, Lisa, from last year. The other girl was very possibly new, she couldn’t recognize her. Their names weren’t important, though. She didn’t need to know who they were in order to get them to do what she wanted. She only had to scare them. She loved that they were already scared of her. Knowing that they wouldn’t dare challenge her gave her a sense of invincibility. 

“That’s not very nice,” she said, making sure she was speaking so that Emily and the others could hear her every word. “Certainly no way to make friends. Which I see you’ve done.” She smiled threateningly at the other two girls. She made no effort to hide her intentions, but she needed to be smart about this while the teachers were around. It all had to look very pleasant. “Somehow. They don’t know you yet though, do they? I guess not if they’ve lasted this long. It’s good when your friends don’t know all your darkest secrets.”   
“Please, leave me alone,” the blonde whispered. It was small and lost. Completely defenceless. Emily was already quivering, and Jade hadn’t even started yet. 

“You want to be alone?” Jade asked incredulously. “But you have such nice friends, why would you want to be left alone.”

Emily opened and closed her mouth a few times in search of the right words. Nothing came to her. 

“Oh!” Jade brought a hand up to her forehead as if she finally understood. “You just don’t want ME here right now? Is that it?” She smiled as the blonde fidgeted before her. “Right, I get it. that’s fine.” She turned to the other girls. “‘Cmon, she wants to be left alone,”

Lisa scurried off, the new girl stood for a second and Jade was briefly annoyed by the insubordination. “Hey, pigtails!” She got the girls attention, “Emily said she wants to be left alone, let’s go,” 

Jade led the two other girls away from Emily until the blonde was lost in the sea of other kids. “You remember David, right Lisa?” A classmate of theirs from last year. He moved to Colorado over the summer. Lisa was quiet, too scared to speak. “Do you remember David?” She repeated, more urgency in her voice this time.

Lisa nodded vigorously. “Yes, he was nice,” 

“Yeah great kid, we all miss him,” she rolled her eyes. “You know why he moved away?”

“N-no?”

She stopped walking to turn to the other girls, lowering her voice to just above a whisper. “He kept talking about this monster that was following him. It used to tap on his window at night, it drove him crazy.”

“There’s no such thing as monsters,” the new girl said. Lisa still looked appropriately terrified.

“Sweet of you to think that, but that won’t protect you,” Jade said, “This monster looks just like everyone else, except at night when it dissolves into the darkness and waits. It screams into the wind, and you can hear all the pain that’s coming for you. It waits until you’re all curled up in bed, and then it sneaks through the window. The last thing you feel is paralyzing fear before it rips the organs out of your body.” This was a monster she’d invented last year, all the kids knew about it. 

“Why did it pick on him?”

Jade didn’t like this new girl, and maybe if Emily wasn’t already her target, this girl would be. No one had really known why David left, and he was as good a pawn as any for this story. Last year, he didn’t talk to Emily any more than anyone else, but he was gone now, so it worked. Lisa was buying it. 

“Because he talked to the wrong person,” Lisa looked at her shoes, rubbing her toe in the dirt. “I’m sorry Jade, I just forgot.”

Jade suppressed a smile. “Just don’t let me catch you again,” she spoke calmly. “And make sure you tell everyone else. Emily is monster bait” 

Lisa nodded and dragged the new girl away by her wrist in a hurry. Emily was alone again. Order was restored. It was so much easier to get to her now. 

It helped a little, knowing that someone else had no one to turn to. The only difference was Emily still had her perfect mom and perfect dad. She still came to school with perfect braids. But at least on the playground, she could look out and know there was someone else feeling lost. Someone who didn’t know what she did wrong, or why she deserved to feel this way. Jade was glad to know someone else was having a hard time. 

She didn’t feel guilty. She still lived by her cardinal rules: that no one could be trusted, that the world owed her, and that nothing was her fault. Emily had everything, she was pretty and smart, people liked her, she had parents who loved her. It wasn’t fair, and she was only levelling out the playing field. Her rules stopped her from feeling guilty. 

They stopped her from feeling a lot of things, which was fine by her because she was convinced that feelings were stupid. She wished she didn’t have any, her life would be so much easier if she didn’t. She hated her feelings but she had so many of them. Sometimes, the rest of the world would melt away and she’d be left alone and small, gasping and shaking, with nothing except feelings that made everything so much worse. She hated herself for having those breakdowns, her only consolation was that no one would ever see her like that. 

But, it was a small comfort. Especially since it was happening more and more as the due date crept closer. She was alone a lot, which was fine with her. She had books to read, music to listen to, and a new t.v. Even with all the things to distract herself, she still found herself lost in thought. Usually, it was just daydreams about future fame, or monsters, or Rachel. Sometimes though, she’d think about the baby. It was her replacement, that much was clear. Her heart would beat so fast it hurt, her eyes blurry from tears she refused to shed. She was never good enough. That’s why her father left. That’s why her mom started seeing Matt. That’s why they were having this baby. Her mother didn’t love her. No one did. Maybe no one ever would. So then she would hold herself, clawing into her shoulders just to feel connected to the world. Shaking, heart pounding, mind reeling with all the things she hated most. It would last for a while, and then she’d fall asleep. It was exhausting. 

That happened a few times a week, slowly more often when her mother started staying home from work. She assumed that it would be worse when the baby was there, so she tried to slow time in the last few days of her mother’s pregnancy. She became needy, feigned illness three days in a row just to stay home so the day would be slower. It never worked, and time kept bringing her closer to an inevitability that she had been avoiding. 

When it finally happened, her first thought was that it was too soon. She had been obsessing over her mother’s due date since December. April 17th, not hard to remember. But it wasn’t April 17th, it was April 13th, so she wasn’t ready yet. She was supposed to have four more days to prepare herself, and that was gone with a simple phone call at school. 

Matt signed her out and brought her to the hospital. She wished he would have kept her in school, or better yet that the baby was coming four days later like it was supposed to. She couldn’t pay attention to whatever music was playing in the car. All of her energy was focused on trying to stop herself from exploding from that unnameable feeling. Matt kept trying to talk to her, bouncing in his seat and smiling even wider than usual, but she couldn’t really hear what he was saying. 

She hoped, not for the first time, that this was all a trick. That she’d get to the hospital and it would turn out that her mother was never really pregnant. They were pranking her this whole time, maybe, and even though it would be annoying, at least she wouldn’t have a new sibling that she didn’t want. She could stay an only child, and her life would never have to change. 

She followed Matt as he rushed through the hospital. Her mother was in a private room, hair plastered to her face from sweat. She had a pained expression on her face, and her breathing was irregular. But she smiled weakly when she saw her daughter. 

They stayed in the room for a while, but when her mother requested ice chips, she was more than happy to volunteer. She didn’t want to be there for this. She wished that Matt had just let her stay at school, she could be making Emily cry right now. Instead, she was killing time in the hospital while her mother's groaning grew increasingly louder. She wandered the halls, looking in where she wasn’t supposed to, trying to drag out the errand so she wouldn’t have to be back in that room with the baby she was dreading. But getting ice isn’t a long errand, and she was back sooner than she’d hoped.

When her mother was moved into the delivery room, Jade was sent to the waiting room. She twisted her fingers, one at a time, until her knuckles popped, and her foot was tapping against the side of the chair rhythmically. This was it. 

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Matt finally came in to announce the successful birth. It could have been seconds or years, she couldn’t tell the difference. She followed him, still not wanting any of this to be real. She stopped outside the door for just a moment, as if she could stop it from happening. It wasn’t too late yet. She could still walk away, this could still be a dream. But she knew she was awake, and that it was too late. It had been too late for a long time. 

Her mother was in the bed, smiling, but clearly exhausted and soaked with sweat. She was holding a tiny blue bundle, a boy. She looked up when the door opened and beamed. 

“Come here,” she whispered, excited, “Sweetie, come!”

Jade couldn’t feel her feet moving as she approached her mother and the baby whose face was obstructed. She looked at her mother, completely ignoring the bundle. She had never seen her mother so happy, but she was completely fixated on the baby.

Jade felt like a ghost. Like her presence here was empty and intangible. There was a moment between three people, and she was just there. Matt was crying, tears of joy as he picked up his son. Her mother was also lost in the complete ray of sun that was her new baby brother. No one had ever loved her this much. 

She was going to have to look at her brother eventually, and now it seemed more effort to look away, so she looked at the face sticking out of the blankets in Matt’s arms. He was small, maybe too small. And ugly. Jade had seen other babies before, and they never looked this ugly. She stared at him, trying to figure out what about him made her mother smile like that or made Matt cry happy tears. She just saw a baby. He was pink, wrinkly and bald, and he was fast asleep. He scrunched his tiny face, a small noise escaping his lips.

In that instant, that fraction of a second while he squirmed, everything around him faded. He was the only thing that mattered right now, his tiny face, his peaceful breathing. He looked so impossible, so happy and complete. But also vulnerable, like he was one wrong move away from being as broken as she was. Jade resisted the urge to hold him, terrified that somehow she would be the one that would screw up this baby. She had to make sure he would stay this peaceful, this happy, forever. 

She would kill for him. No one alive had ever been this perfect, she looked down at him and wondered what he’d be like when he grew up. If he’d have a lot of friends if he’d be creative and smart. If he’d be happy. She wasn’t sure if it was normal to change from indifference to absolute adoration so fast, but she wasn’t questioning it. She wasn’t questioning how she felt, for the first time in years, feeling good made sense. There was a warm sensation spreading through her while she thought about all the potential in this little baby. She was going to try and teach him the little piano she knew, she was going to love every single one of his drawings. She was going to make sure that he never knew what it was like to deal with feelings that are too big for such a small body. That he would never feel as lost and unloved as she did sometimes. 

Matt knelt so she could get a better look, and she tentatively reached out, looking at her mother before making contact. 

“You can hold his hand,” her mother was watching from the bed, misty-eyed and smiling. 

Jade reached out for his tiny had, taking it gently between her thumb and index finger. She gave it a light squeeze and gasped when his fingers curled around hers. A smile stretched across her face. “What’s his name?”

“Owen,” 

She would never let anything happen to Owen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks,   
> -Trashdove


	10. Chapter 10

Every time Owen cried, it made Jade extremely nervous. The sound was sudden, unsettling, loud, ongoing, and she had no idea what -if anything- he needed. She thought back to when she first saw him a month ago in the hospital, and how the world melted around him. She still felt that way, but it was hard to remember when he cried all the time. She liked him better when he was quiet, which is why she only ever bothered to be in the same room as him if he was asleep. When he was awake, he was too close to crying again, and she hated the noise. So she’d walk into the living room if he was napping, just to remind herself that she liked him. He was cuter than he was a month ago, he looked more like a real person. His nose was just like hers, she could tell now. 

She liked him best when he was in his room and her mother was asleep. 

It was a nice room, the same one she had been in for the first five and a half years of her life. It got a lot of natural light through the bay window. When it had been her room, it was painted pink with a hideous wallpaper that ran along the bottom quarter of the wall. It’s one of the reasons she wanted the basement so much. At the time, it had been a workout room that no one used, and the walls were a deep navy blue. Not her favourite colour, but better than the bright Pepto-Bismol pink. 

They had redone it for Owen, though. Now the walls were a light mint colour, and the wallpaper was gone. He was asleep, a mobile swinging overhead. She peered through the bars of his crib to catch a glimpse of him. 

“Boo,” she whispered, not nearly loud enough to wake him. She smiled to herself and leaned against the wall, still looking through the bars. “Today at school,” she paused, “school is this annoying thing you’ll have to do one day. It’s not really a big deal, except the other kids are annoying. But I wrote a story,” she had tried to talk about it to her mother at dinner, but she was nodding at all the wrong moments and Jade could tell she hadn’t really been listening. It was an assignment, and she’d never been given permission to be this creative at school before. 

“Or, I started writing one. It’s about a girl who gets lost in the woods but not like the ones we have here. Darker, deeper, quiet and rainy like at gramma's house,” she paused again, “gramma is mom’s mom, you’ll meet her someday. 

So this girl gets lost, right? And it’s night time and foggy, she meets a vampire,” she raised her eyebrows to impress upon him the importance of this plot point, even though he was fast asleep and one month old. “Vampires are these monsters that drink blood and turn into bats. But you can just like, eat garlic or whatever. I don’t know. They aren’t real, unfortunately,” she was already thinking about how old he’d have to be before she showed him some good classic horror. She had liked vampires since she first saw one on scooby-doo, but she wanted him to have a more formal introduction. 

“Anyway, she meets a vampire in the forest and she dies. No one comes looking for her, so she sinks lower and lower into the dirt until she disappears,” she looked at him again, trying to look for even a trace of understanding on his face. He was still asleep. 

She could picture the setting every time she closed her eyes: a dark, misty forest, a girl standing alone in a muddy nightgown, her hair all tattered and full of twigs. She’d been running for a long time, away from the circus where she was raised. She was supposed to be a trapeze artist, but at their show in Michigan, she had run away in the middle of the night. That was weeks ago, she’d been running since. Living off of squirrels and drinking from streams. The wind howls through the bare trees, raking them together and causing the girl to shake. She sees a figure, glowing almost ethereal in the moonlight, with pale skin and terrifying features. He is dressed in all black, completely clean, and he smiles at her, baring fangs. She tries to run, but he grabs her and slowly drains the blood from her neck. 

Jade could picture all of that, and sometimes when she tried to write it out, she would end up just drawing moments from the story instead. She didn’t have the right words to say what she wanted, she couldn’t name a character right to save her life. So mostly, she had back to back sketches of scenes, which was fine because they were allowed to add illustrations if they wanted to. 

She didn’t know she’d have to read it out loud to the rest of the class. She listened to everyone else, reading their stories about animals or aliens. Knights and princesses, dragons; cookie-cutter characters in picture-perfect settings. Happy endings. Her story was different, it was weird. It involved deeply troubled trapeze artists and terrifying monsters in creepy forests. There was a whole paragraph of the girl losing blood. It ended with insects digesting her. 

No one would like it. 

There was a cold choking sensation in her throat, and her stomach did tiny somersaults. The unnameable feeling was back, and the only thing she could think to do in the moment was lie. She had been sure to press the pages of her story between the books in her bag to keep it from wrinkling. She had worked so hard on it and didn’t want it to get damaged. It sat in her desk, still pressed and unmarked except by her pencil. Fast enough to not be noticed, she grabbed the story and shoved it to the bottom of her bag, no longer caring if the pages tore. 

“Jade, it’s your turn,” her teacher prompted.

“I didn’t do it.”

When Matt asked her how her day was she glared at him and went straight to her room, making a point to slam the door behind her. Her stack of CDs had grown slightly over the year, now featuring bands that she hadn’t even known about a year ago. Now they were her favourite. She scanned down the alphabetized stack but didn’t have far to go. Breaking Benjamin. She popped in the disk and flopped onto her bed, bag beside her. The music was building slowly, a single guitar being added onto with drums and bass. When the singing started, she mouthed the words that she knew, nodding along and trying to let it make her angry, because right now she wasn’t. She was crushed. 

Carefully, she took her story out of her bag, the pages all wrinkled and folded. She looked down at her words and drawings; she had always been proud of having different interests than her classmates, but hearing them all read their stories made her feel completely alone. She was more sure now than ever that she would never have friends. If she was ever going to be loved, she would need to hide this part of herself- maybe forever. 

But she didn’t want to change, and she liked the story she’d written. She just wished anyone alive would listen to it without judging her. 

She snuck into Owen’s room while Matt and her mother dozed off on the couch in front of the t.v in the living room. She’d been invited to watch but turned down the offer as she often did. 

She had the wrinkled pages of her story pressed against her chest, and as she sat down beside him, she still wasn’t sure if she should say anything out loud. But he was asleep. “Olive never wanted to join the circus,” she started. When she found no immediate objection from her sleeping brother, she kept reading. She read through the pages she’d written, the story she’d been so excited about until she realized how weird it was. She was glad for a non-judgemental audience. The paragraph of blood loss sounded right, and she loved talking about the girl growing weaker and weaker until she was gone entirely. 

“Nobody saw her again. Except for the worms that swallowed her bit by bit until she was nothing but bones in the forest,” she finished. Jade looked up again, into the crib. His eyes were open, and for a moment she worried he would scream again. Instead, he blinked at her. “Well it doesn’t matter if you like it so…” she stuck her tongue out at him and wrinkled her nose. He blinked several more times. “You’re pretty boring, you know that?” 

More blinking.

“But did you like the story?”

More blinking. 

“Yeah, whatever,” she snuck back to her room. 

She finished fourth grade with decent enough marks, good enough for her mother to take her out for a special night on the town, leaving Owen alone with Matt. The last time she’d had her mother’s undivided attention had been in October. They walked through markets, laughing about how much Owen cried, trying to determine how Matt was coping by himself. When they walked by record shops or unique book stores, her mother didn’t stop her from going in, even offering to buy her a rare CD she found of a performer that Rachel had shown her. She’d not been able to find it anywhere else before, but the record shop sold a lot of strange CDs. 

Jade never knew that her mother paid attention to her interests, but they avoided mainstream L.A well enough to prove otherwise. They ended the evening with smoothies at a free concert in Grand Park. Her mother danced along to the music, only moving her hips while she sipped through her straw. It wasn’t the kind of music Jade usually liked, but she found she didn’t care. She drank her smoothie and nodded along to the horns as they played. Her mother draped an arm around her, and Jade leaned her head against her. 

The smile that came to her lips was genuine and simple. It stayed there for the rest of the evening. For a moment, everything was right. 

***  
Her tenth birthday should have been amazing, and it certainly started out that way.  
She was up early, which came as no surprise because she usually woke up at the same time every day. It was nice, though, because everyone else was still asleep. The house was quiet, and she had time to do whatever she wanted. She turned on the T.V in the den, volume low to try and keep everyone asleep as long as possible. She loved being awake when no one else was, it gave her a sense of true freedom. The only downside was that nothing good was on, so she went to retrieve one of her notebooks from her room, keeping the television playing as background noise. 

She had notebooks that were full of schoolwork, one for every subject, but she also had a spare. It had a little bit of everything. Drawings of monsters and girls alone in the woods, lists of possible character names back when she had been writing her story, rough sketches of scenes she could imagine in full clarity but could not write out, reflections on her performances on stage, segments of the lines she’d have to memorise, reviews of the movies she liked or didn’t like. 

Whenever she had nothing else to do, she’d scribble something in her notebook. With no one else awake and nothing good on television, that’s exactly how she spent the first hour of her tenth birthday. Then Owen started crying and everyone else woke up. 

Matt was the first to come downstairs, her mother still audibly shushing her brother upstairs. “Morning, kid!” he tousled her hair quickly as he passed. “Happy Birthday!” 

She shut her notebook to defend her privacy and brought her hand to her head, flattening her hair again. “I hate when you do that,” but she was smiling anyway. 

“Sure you do, any requests for breakfast?” 

“Coffee” she joked because she knew she wasn’t allowed. 

“Hmm I was thinking like waffles or something,” he moved into the kitchen to get started, “but tell you what, you can have a sip if you really want.” 

She perked up and moved to join him as he started the coffee maker. “Really?” 

“Why not, you’re only ten once. A sip won’t kill you.” 

She hopped up onto the counter and swung her feet back and forth as he rummaged through the cupboards. “Waffles sound good, as long as I get that sip.”

He chuckled, “Sure, kid.” 

She wasn’t sure when exactly she stopped hating when he called her that, but it didn’t bother her anymore like it used to. She watched him as he set out the ingredients for breakfast, but was overcome with a desire to make her own breakfast. She was ten now, after all, and should be more self-sufficient. 

She hopped off the counter and took the measuring cup from his hand. “I want to do it!” The box of mix had directions, though she wasn’t entirely sure how many she should make. Twelve seemed appropriate. 

One of the things she’d always appreciated about Matt was that he allowed her a certain amount of independence that her mother never did. He was more than happy to sit back while she tried to do things herself. Her mother, especially in the last year or so, had been quick to offer help when Jade didn’t want it.

It was confusing, since she’d had to take care of herself through the day all the time when her parents had been fighting. She had basically been independent then, so it was always a little offensive when her mother would insist on doing things for her that she was perfectly capable of doing herself. Had she forgotten that Jade grew up entirely alone? That no one was around to remind her to brush her teeth or tuck her in, put her to sleep, dry her tears? She had been dealing with significant feelings and conflicts all by herself for years, so of course, she could make waffles by herself. They tasted pretty good too. Even if she’d made way too many. 

Matt was true to his word, and he turned his mug towards her so she could taste a sip of coffee. It was hot and it burned her tongue, but she enjoyed the warmth as it spread through her mouth and into her body as she swallowed. The aftertaste was strong, bitter, but not so much so that it was unpleasant. Perhaps if there had been a little sugar, it would have been perfect. 

After breakfast, all four of them went to the natural history museum, spending lots of time in the butterfly pavilion. Owen was quiet as her mother pushed him in his stroller, and Jade was careful to inspect each of the butterflies as closely as she could. Some of them were very elegant. She was sure to know exactly which species she was looking at, not content to call them “the blue one” or “the black one”. There was an expert in the room, and she pestered him with questions every time she saw a new type. 

“It’s black, pretty big, and blue….just, come here,” she grew frustrated at her inability to describe the one she was most curious about, so she grabbed the expert by his wrist and pulled him over to where it was sitting on a flower. 

If the man minded, he didn’t say. In fact, he seemed more than happy to follow her through the pavilion, naming the different species as she pointed to them. “That’s the pipevine, it’s one of the swallowtails we have here.” 

“I like it,” she scrutinized the insect for a moment until it fluttered away. There was another one on a branch a little to the left, smaller and white. “What’s that one?” 

“I’m sorry about her.”

“No, no, we love curiosity here!” He said, “We call that one a cabbage white butterfly.”

There was another room full of insects, and Jade got to hold a tarantula. Her mother had to leave when Owen started crying, but she and Matt walked around, looking at cockroaches and centipedes, and other types of spiders. Jade thought it was amusing when Matt looked away from the glass, she found nothing scary about these delicate creatures. They saw a tank with beetles, reminding her momentarily of the ones she’d collected from under a rock years ago, but these ones were bigger, and their shells were iridescent rather than simply brown. 

In the gift shop, there was a glass display full of unmoving butterflies. Jade asked the clerk if they were dead or fake. 

“Dead.”

“Cool.”

Her mother bought it for her. 

On the ride back, she sat in the middle so she could be closer to Owen in his rear-facing seat. She held up the class display, pointing to each butterfly and telling him what it was. He wasn’t very good at paying attention yet, so after about 5 butterflies, she put the display away and started to play with his feet like she’d seen her mother do from time to time. This made him smile and she admitted to herself that maybe he wasn’t that boring after all. 

When they got home, there were two letters for her. One was undoubtedly from her grandmother, who always sent her something for her birthday if she couldn’t come down, and the other was from some unknown party. It didn’t have a return address. It was mid-afternoon, and after a full day of activity, Jade was ready to retreat to her room for a bit. She brought the letters downstairs along with the butterfly display and set all three on her desk.

The most important thing on her mind was the question of where to put her butterflies. There was a hook on the back, suggesting they should be hung, but she had no nails in her wall at the moment. An easy enough fix. The hammer she had taken from the garage years ago was tucked at the back of her desk drawer, she kept it there to stop her mother from finding it and taking it away. She didn’t use it as often any more, she had music that expressed her emotions, acting that got rid of her excess energy, and notebooks full of pictures and words that let her express her desire for destruction; but it was useful to keep around just in case. The name on the handle was fading, but still legible, and as much as it had a clear use, it was that fading sharpie that caused her to hold on to it for as long as she had. 

Cliff. Her dad. She still thought about him all the time. It still hurt as much as it did the first night she realized he was never coming back, a week after he disappeared; leaving her with a lie about milk. Whenever she’d think about him, her world would crash around her, her guts would knit together and she would feel her blood boiling in her veins. Her heart would race, drop, and shatter all over again. She’d just gotten better at dealing with the pain that she was starting to expect would be a part of her forever. 

Today she devoted little time to thinking about him, however, only using his hammer to mount the butterflies that were cool because they were dead. 

Careful not to misplace the nail, she selected her spot for the butterflies and hammered into the wall. The placement was perfect, and the butterflies hung freely so she could see them. They looked right there. She took a moment to admire her work before popping in a CD and sitting at her desk to scribble again in her notebook. She drew spider webs in the corners of the page, and a mix of different insects across the rest of the blank area. The butterflies, now hanging on her wall, served as perfect models for her sketches. She was not a naturally talented visual artist, but she was patient and focused, and she did this often enough that there was a clear difference of quality between earlier drawings and the later ones. 

She hated cake and had grown sick of regular ice cream. This of course meant that finding a suitable birthday dessert was a difficult task. Matt had bought mochi ice cream, and though she was skeptical at first, she decided she quite enjoyed it. The rice dough was chewy and made the entire experience better than regular ice cream. She’d tried two new things today, and enjoyed them both. 

After dinner, she opened her presents, and she was shocked that they suited her. Her mother had bought her some new CDs, all of which were bands that Jade knew and liked. The books she had been gifted were all about mystery, haunted forests, or possessed dolls. She also got an art kit, full of colours she would never use, but still, she appreciated the sentiment, it was as though finally her mother was paying attention to who she really was, and it was freeing to feel seen like this. Matt gave her some vinyl records of the bands they listened to together. They were dusty, and she couldn’t play them without a record player, but she liked old things. The album covers were faded, and she could tell that some of these must be very old. 

Before she went to bed, she remembered the letters that she’d left on her desk. She recognized her grandmother’s handwriting on the pink envelope. It was a cute birthday card that was sickeningly frilly, but inside was a 50 dollar bill so she didn’t complain too much.

The other one was a plain envelope, and though it was addressed to her she didn’t recognise the writing. It was a little heavy, there was something inside. Part of her hoped it was an ominous message from a dangerous stranger. She could see it playing out like a horror movie, inside the envelope there would be a severed finger in a bag, with a note that told her she was next. Then she’d have to discover the source of the letter before she was tracked down and killed. 

But it wasn’t. It was a birthday card, and underneath the commercial printed “Happy Birthday”, there was a message scrawled in pen. 

“Happy Birthday, Jade. I hope to see you again soon. - Dad.” 

She read the message again, in case she’d somehow misread it. It said the same thing. Just to be sure she read it several more times, analyzing each word. What did he mean he’d see her soon? Why did he hope he would? She’s been in the same spot, waiting for him, for almost two years. Why now did he “hope to see her again”? Had he even written this? He’d let her ninth birthday and two Christmases go by without so much as a hint he was still out there, and now all of a sudden he wanted to see her again. It was jarring, and she wished that it really had been an ominous note with a severed finger- that would have been less confusing.

She remembered the envelope’s weight and searched inside, pulling out a silver chain with a J hanging from it. It had been months since her last meltdown, but all the feelings that usually rushed over her when she thought about him were back, along with that unnamable feeling and a strange sense of excitement. She didn’t know it was possible to feel so many conflicting things at once, and she wished that anything could stop the sensation of them battling inside of her. Her stomach twisted into knots, threatening to make her puke and she dropped the necklace to see if that would help settle her mood. It didn’t.

She spent the rest of the night cycling between emotions, all of them too intense for her to deal with and by the time she woke up the next morning, she had several tiny bruises on her biceps from having clutched at them so tightly. 

The necklace was still on the floor where she’d dropped it. It was pretty, simple, and the letter was done in cursive that made it look fancier than if it had just been print. The necklace frustrated her: maybe she wanted to wear it, and maybe she wanted to see her dad again. And maybe she didn’t. She couldn’t tell. 

She placed it in her desk drawer with the card, along with the hammer and closed it. No one else had to know about this. She could figure it out herself. She always did

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you,  
> -Trashdove


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're doing well. As always, leave a comment if you feel like it, and thanks for reading! Take care

The necklace and his card stayed at the back of her desk drawer, hidden from her line of sight so she could try to forget about them. She had hoped she’d have better control over her thoughts by the time she grew up. But now, at double digits, she still allowed her father to take up too much space in her mind. She replayed the images she could remember, trying to paint a picture of him so she could decide if she was excited or not by his attempt at reconnection. 

He’d been an alcoholic, at some point. She remembered the afternoons when he was supposed to be watching her and instead he’d be passed out. Then the problem shifted to his devotion to everything other than his own family. His late nights at the office, his kiss with that blonde woman. There was also the wonderful display of parenting: the night when he lied to her and left for almost two years without knowing or caring if she was alive. 

All those memories were recent, so she tried to remember a time when he’d ever been there for her. Even before he ran away, even before first grade when he lost his job, but she couldn’t think of any. He never tried to make her smile or listened to music with her, or bought her books she’d read or paid attention to her interests. He wasn’t Matt. 

If she was being honest, she was mad at him. He’d abandoned her, left her alone with her mother who she was only now starting to trust again. Anger shook through every fibre of her being when she thought about him, and he wasn’t even around for her to hate.

She was snappy and bitter the entire day after her birthday. Then the day after that. Then days turned into weeks, and by the time she entered fifth grade, she seldom went more than three days without starting a fight. 

Usually, she fought with her mother. Jade had long ago decided that this whole thing was her mother’s fault. It couldn’t be her own fault: nothing was. Her father wasn’t there to be mad at. So by process of elimination, she was left with her mother. Often the fights were trivial, arguments over bedtimes and chores that she would always escalate until they were full-fledged screaming matches. In the heat of one of them, she found her new favourite thing to say. The new phrase that put her on top of the world, won her the argument, and almost always made her mother shed a tear. 

She’d finally done it. She found the thing that was personal enough for both of them, that got close enough to the heart of the issue without giving away new information. She felt incredible every time she got to say it. 

“This is why dad left.”

The look of complete betrayal that would flash across her mother’s face was the closest she could get to understanding her own volatile emotions. So she started fights just to get the chance to say it, because, in that hurt expression, Jade could find the edges of her own broken heart. 

She picked fights with Matt as well. Sometimes because he stuck up for her mother, but mostly because he wasn’t her dad. Her real dad was out there, and she didn’t know if he cared or not. She only knew that Matt had been there for her in ways her real dad never had, and it wasn’t even his job. Before, she’d been happy about this, relatively. It was nice to have someone who understood her, who wanted what was best for her, who took time to make her laugh or smile or sing along to old songs with her. 

But then her dad sent her the necklace and the card in the mail, and she could no longer enjoy being around Matt without feeling guilt on top of all the other feelings she wished she didn’t have. 

Having Matt was tricky, too, because now he had his own child. She was just a weak consolation prize. He had a real baby, one that belonged to him and she didn’t. More than anything, she hoped that Owen knew how lucky he was that he got to belong to Matt. She never would. 

One day in October, he picked her up from acting class as he often did. He played the classics in the car and tried to convince her to sing along. She wasn’t feeling it, she hadn’t been feeling much of anything other than that unnameable feeling lately. Not unless she was in the middle of a fight when she was alive and angry. So even though he tried, she didn’t sing along. 

“ I know you like this one!” It was Black Sabbath, one of her favourite of the classic bands. Into the Void was a good song, and she nodded along as it played, she just had no desire to sing. Besides, it was more of a guitar song. “C’mon, kid, let’s rock a bit!” 

Sometimes she wished it were true, that she was his kid. That he was her dad instead and that Clifford West was just a boogeyman she made up when she was younger. There were definitely moments where she’d thought about calling him “dad”, and she had even made him a card at school when they were doing father’s day crafts in June last year. She threw it out immediately, scolding herself for...she wasn’t sure what. For something. For trying to replace her real father? For wanting a parent at all? For trusting him? The motive didn’t change the result: Matt never saw the card. No one did. As much as she wished it were true, it wasn’t. He wasn’t her dad, and he never would be. 

“I’m not your kid,” it hurt her to vocalize, but she needed to remind herself. So she said it flatly, just stating a fact. She wasn’t his kid. 

That wiped the smile from his face, even if just for a second. “I, uh,” he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel and looked back in the rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of her “I know, kid, but…” he trailed off.

He might have said something else, but she used his moment of silence to push the issue further. “So don’t call me ‘kid’.”

Matt cleared his throat and looked back at her, eyebrows stitched together the tiniest bit. “Right. Okay.” 

The radio played in the background for the rest of the drive home, but the songs couldn’t be heard over the deafening silence between the two of them. 

When they got home she went straight to her room and slammed the door. 

Lately, her notebooks were full of her obsessive attempts to perfect the cursive capital “J”. The letter never took up full pages but was in the margins of her stories, drawings, and attempts at songs. She had gotten pretty good at drawing butterflies, still preferring to keep things black and white. The art kit her mother had gotten her months ago for her birthday had some really nice pencils and black pens; so she got good use out of it. Her stories tended to air on the side of morbidity, and usually, her protagonist would die alone and unwanted. She didn’t believe in happy endings. 

Some days she’s read parts of the dictionary, if there was a word she liked, she’d write it out in her notebook several times along with its definition. It helped her with her vocabulary, and it made writing stories easier, but it served another purpose. Sometimes, she’d find a word and it would perfectly sum up an aspect of life she was trying to deal with. Ambivalent was the first to strike her, and it was the kindest word she could use to describe how she felt about her father. The word was written over and over in print and cursive, each time she wrote it she felt she gained a little more clarity on her mixed feelings. 

More often than stories, drawings, and definitions, her cursive “J”s would appear in the margins of her acting notes. She was throwing herself into every outlet she had, desperately trying to not think about her father or the card he sent. Her increased focus had paid off and impressed her new acting teacher, a woman named Francine. Francine was more uptight than Melody had been, and was not afraid of playing favourites in class. Jade didn’t mind: she was one of the favourites. This meant that she got consistent news about opportunities to audition for small roles in films or plays outside of classes. 

Just after Thanksgiving, she landed a role in an independent play put on by one of Francine’s friends. She was happy for the stage time. It meant more of her focus was directed into learning her many lines instead of thinking about if her dad actually cared, or if he was just going to let her go through the rest of her life without another word. 

With all her outlets, she didn’t look at the necklace or the card for months. She was sure there would be more news: another note, a phone call, anything. Christmas came and went without another word and not even a card. On the 26th, she woke up with that unnameable feeling sitting on her chest- not powerful enough to leave her shaking and breathless. Just enough to make her nauseous. She cited a stomach ache as her excuse to turn down all three meals that day. And on the 27th. By dinner on the 28th, Matt and her mother were trying to negotiate with her on eating anything, but she still didn’t want to. That unnameable feeling was twisting around in her guts, making her lost and alone and so unbelievably powerless, she just wanted control. So she continued to refuse food, arguing even more fiercely from hunger. She caved on the 29th and ate a full breakfast. The unnameable feeling did not go away. 

In January, she opened the drawer where she kept all things related to Clifford West. These objects were the only evidence she had apart from her memories that he was a real person. The necklace was still never-worn, and Jade was pleased by seeing that she’d gotten very good at imitating the cursive capital, but the necklace was not the source of her constant worry. It was his card, and she held it in her hands; re-reading his message in case she had misinterpreted it. It was clear: “I hope to see you soon”. That last word “soon” was the one to blame for her waiting game. “Soon” didn’t have a timeline or a due date, and could happen any time. He had reached out to her, but given her no control over what would happen next. So she waited. She always waited for him: she’d waited for him to come clean about the woman, waited for him to come home, and now she would wait to see if she’d ever hear from him. 

She did not wait, however, to re-establish Emily’s isolation. She had been careful to start that on the first day of fifth grade, back in September.

“Monster Bait.” 

When Jade came back she could never have dreamed the nickname would stick, but it had. It turned Emily into the pariah of the playground, which only made it easier for Jade to bully undetected. 

Emily was Jade’s punching bag. Not in a literal sense, because she avoided obvious violence; but every time the stress of waiting weighed too heavily on her shoulders, she could count on making the other girl feel even worse. So it was part of her plan that the blonde would be alone and helpless, already low when Jade arrived to knock her down further. What was unexpected, however, was that the whole school was ostracising the girl. Blaming her for the tiniest incidents, spreading rumours, and avoiding her in class. 

It was a good thing she hadn’t waited to reinstate Emily’s isolation. After reading her father’s card again she was confused, lost, and so alone in the world. She needed her punching bag, and Emily was alone in the cafeteria at lunch. 

Jade walked over, confident and casual as if it were the most natural thing, and sat down across from the blonde. “Hey monster bait,” she looked at the girl’s lunch, “ooh, mommy made you lunch? What’d she pack?”

“Please leave me alone,” Emily sighed, exasperated.

Jade placed a hand over her heart and gasped dramatically. “That’s no way to talk to someone just trying to enjoy her lunch. Just cause my lunch isn’t fancy like yours, you think I should eat somewhere else?” 

“That’s not...I just…”

“I just,” Jade mocked, in a lower, slower voice. 

Emily didn’t retort, she remained silent as she put her containers back in her lunchbox. Jade followed the movement and caught a glimpse of a piece of paper at the bottom. 

“Aww, and what’s this?” she moved faster than Emily did, grabbing the girl’s lunchbox straight from her hands and taking the paper from the bottom. “Note from mommy?” 

“Give that back,” Emily grit her teeth and moved as if to snatch the letter from Jade’s hands. 

“Oh, you really don’t want me to see it, do you?” a wicked grin spread across her lips as she cleared her throat in order to read the note out loud. “‘Good Luck today, we love you! Xo-mom,’” a few people that were sitting around them turned to look, Emily’s cheeks growing redder by the second.

“Well, isn’t that sweet,” she said flatly. It burned that Emily got such lovely notes from her parents. Notes that weren’t cryptic with their use of “soon”. “Someone needs mommy just to get through a day at school. I didn’t know it was that hard for you…”

“Just, give it back.”

“Why, cause it’s your good luck charm?” Jade crumpled it into a ball and threw it at the blonde, smiling a little when it bounced off the girl’s shoulder. 

Emily was blinking rapidly, and her eyes were sparkling with tears. 

“Oh come on. You’re not really going to cry, are you?” 

“No,” but her voice was squeaky.

“I just kind of assumed you’d be sick of crying by now. I mean…being stuck as a boring, worthless nobody… that’s gotta hurt,” she said this conversationally. As if she were discussing the weather. The words were harsh enough, she let them do the work. She smiled, satisfied, as she watched Emily wipe away a falling tear. 

***  
March 19th was the opening night of her play. Her rehearsals ran on Monday, Saturday, and Sunday. In the weeks leading up to the show, Francine offered extra lessons outside of their usual hour on the weekend in order to help her prepare. It was a generous offer that Jade was happy to accept. That’s why her Friday’s were no longer free to sit in her room alone and fill the time by trying not to think about the million things that bothered her if she gave them too much power. There was her frayed relationship with Matt, her fights with her mother, the letter from her father, the concern that maybe she was a bully, and the worry that she would forget her lines in front of the large crowd. She was always thinking about something that helped the unnameable feeling grow even stronger. Acting was the best distraction, she loved that Francine wasn’t afraid to push her, to make her work harder and say a line ten times over in order to get it right. 

“Again, but think about the character. It’s sounding like you,” Francine scrutinized her from behind a mug of coffee. 

“Well, maybe she’s angry. I would be” it was the 9th time she’d said the line, and she was starting to grow frustrated.

“Yes, but this isn’t about you. This is about Jennifer, whose friend just died. It’s coming off too forceful, Jade. Remember, she has no real power here,” she took a sip of her coffee and sighed. “Again.”

Jade knew what it was like to feel powerless. She felt that way almost all the time unless she was yelling to be heard or causing other people to cry. “Nobody’s telling me what happened to Stacy!” She demanded in character

“Okay, let’s try something else,” Francine set the mug on the table next to her, “take a deep breath in.”

Jade rolled her eyes but did as instructed. 

“Good, and when you exhale I want you to close your eyes.” 

She listened. 

“Alright. I want you to think about having a friendship with someone. Like the one Stacy and Jennifer have.”

Jade really wanted a friendship like her character had. The kind where they always looked out for each other, where they laughed about everything. She never had that, nothing close to the kinds of friendships she saw in movies or read about in books. The kind she was being asked to recreate onstage. It wasn’t hard to imagine, because it was something she always wanted; she just had no idea how to get it. 

“Nod if you’re there. Take a few more seconds if you need.”

She nodded. 

“Okay. Now, imagine that person is gone. And no one is telling you why. It’s like a whole part of you is missing, isn’t it? That person?”

She knew exactly what it felt like to miss someone and have no idea what happened to them. That’s how she’d felt in that period of time after her dad left and before he sent her that letter. A simpler time, in some respects, but it hurt. 

But it made her mad, and it made her demand things if anything it made her fiercer. She pressed her eyelids together to focus better. If she remembered clearly, there was a brief amount of time, just after he left and just before school started where she felt nothing but that unnameable feeling. She’d never really focused on just that feeling before, she’d always tried to replace it with anger or something else that was just as powerful. But Francine was telling her that this character wouldn’t be angry. So she recalled how that felt in her body. How it made her heart race and her throat ache, how it stopped her from breathing and contorted all her muscles. How her mind would race without stopping. 

Not as severe as when that unnamable feeling would leave her shaking and hyperventilating; desperately trying to ground herself through the sharp pain of her fingers digging into her biceps. No, this character wasn’t there yet. Jenifer was definitely dealing with the unnamable feeling but on a smaller level. On the level that makes her heart flutter in an unpleasant way and knotted her stomach and took away her conviction. In the way that made her skip meals just for a tiny sense of control.

Her character was lost, alone, and helpless. Her character was afraid.

“Okay, let’s do it one more time,” Francine picked up the script and read the line before hers. “Jenny, what’s wrong?”

“Nobody’s telling me what happened to Stacy,” there was much less conviction this time. Like she was asking permission to feel anything at all. If the words themselves were confirming a reality that was so terrifying that she was scared to utter them. 

Francine smiled slowly, and put down the script, “That’s the one!” She encouraged, “That’s it exactly. Good work,” she took another sip of her coffee and looked down at the script again. “Okay, on to the next set of lines.”

That practice gave Jade a lot to think about. Was it possible that she was afraid? That the unnameable feeling had a name, and she just didn’t want to admit it? She’d always been able to memorize and recreate feelings for the stage, and it was that unnameable feeling that Francine wanted when she was supposed to be afraid.

But she wasn’t afraid of anything. Not monsters, insects, mice, rats, spiders, the dark. She wasn’t scared of scary movies, she wasn’t even afraid of death. She was a tough kid, everyone knew it. Even her dad knew it, wherever he was. It was one of the last things he said to her: that she was a tough kid. Besides, she had nothing to be scared of, nothing bad had happened to her. She couldn’t be afraid. 

Matt picked her up. Things had been tense between them since she told him to stop calling her his kid. He was trying, as hard as he had before; harder even, but she was determined to ignore his attempts at bonding. It was too confusing, and it filled her with doubt and that unnameable feeling that couldn’t be fear. Yes, the feeling came with thoughts, and the thoughts could be unsettling, but that wasn’t the same thing as fear. It was worry, concern. Any normal person would be worried that no one would ever love them. That they could disappear without a trace and no one would notice. That all good things were innately fleeting and so they were all just waiting to be replaced by new things. Old husbands were replaced with new boyfriends. Old kids were replaced with new babies. That wasn’t fear, that was logic. 

After trying to get her to sing, and failing, Matt asked if she wanted to get milkshakes before going home. She gave a noncommittal shrug and tried not to get too visibly excited when they pulled into a small parlour just off La Brea. He drove to a lookout that let them see the Hollywood sign. 

“We’re going to be late for dinner,” she was stating a fact, but mostly she didn’t want to spend any extra time with the man she wished was her father. 

“It’s all good,” he got out and leaned against the car. He’d taken his convertible because he knew she liked it. “Look ki- Jade,” he sighed. “Something’s come up, your mom wants us back a little later.”

Her heart dropped in her chest. “What is it?” she tried to sound disinterested. 

“It’s not urgent!” he was quick to address her concern, “and she’ll tell you all about it when we get home.” 

“Can’t you just tell me?”

“I shouldn’t.”

She wasn’t sure how, but she knew. Maybe it was just that she’d been waiting so long for it to happen, and she could tell this was it. “Is it about my dad?” 

He smiled a strange half-smile. It wasn’t happy, but it wasn’t sad either. “You know, you’re a lot smarter than any kid has any right to be. How’d you guess?” 

She shrugged her response and nibbled on her straw. Her stomach was turning over and over, tying itself into knots and she suddenly felt like throwing up. This was what she’d been waiting for since her birthday in July, somehow she thought she’d have made up her mind by now. She hadn’t; she was still deeply ambivalent about his return. 

Matt squeezed her shoulder and brought her out of her own head for a moment. She didn’t know what had tipped him off to her inner turmoil, but she was secretly glad for the comfort. “It’ll be okay, kid.”

He forgot to correct himself that time, but she didn’t mind. It was comforting in a way that was confusing and unsettling but still made her feel safe. She was glad he lied to her, telling her it was going to be okay, even though she knew it wouldn’t be. He didn’t know her father, and absolutely no one knew what his reappearance meant. It wasn’t going to be okay.

She was terrified of what it meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank You,   
> -Trashdove


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry this one is super late! I'm done school now and I'll be back to posting reliably within a 5-9 day window instead of (I think this is 13 days after my last chapter...so super late!). Sorry about that! Hope you enjoy, leave a comment and all that jazz!

There was an unfamiliar car in the driveway, and it was so out of place it was jarring. 

It was too shiny, too clean, and too expensive to be in this neighbourhood. It wasn’t even a bad neighbourhood, it was safe, clean, everyone was well off; but nobody was Bentley rich. She knew without explanation that it belonged to her dad, who else would it be? 

Jade had strange and incomplete memories of her father, but the man she remembered shouldn’t have been capable enough to afford a car like that. Her dad could barely hold down a job. Her dad drove a BMW, at least until he left everything, car included, behind. 

“You missed it,” she wanted to sound casual but there was too much urgency in her voice. Matt had driven right past the driveway.

“I forgot we need to get some groceries.” 

“No, we don’t.” She was barely holding onto her composure. The drive from Francine’s was only 20 minutes, but it had felt like hours. The entire time her mind was reeling non stop with questions and memories, still unable to determine what her father’s return meant. Her throat was closing in on itself, she tried to distract from the sensation by twisting her fingers until they popped or cracking her knuckles. She had been waiting for this exact moment for 8 months, she wasn’t going to wait another minute. 

“Your mom doesn’t want you to see him right now.”

“I. Don’t. Care,” she forced the words out through gritted teeth. 

“Look, kid-”

“-Don’t call me that!” she snapped at him. 

“Jade, I think we ought to let your mom handle this first,” his voice was far away, barely reaching her as she unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to the door. “Stop! What are you…”

But she didn’t hear him finish his sentence. Nothing on earth right now was more important than seeing her dad with her own eyes. Now.

They weren’t going fast, the speed limit for the road was 20mph, and there were kids playing soccer in their driveways or peddling on tricycles in the street. Still, she hit the ground a little awkwardly as she jumped from the moving car. She stuck out her hands to stop herself from falling on her face, scraping her palms on the concrete. Matt was still calling to her from the car which he had stopped immediately. 

“Jade, come on.”

She forced herself up and started running towards the house. It had always been a strong belief of hers that no incident was important enough that it required running. Running was, in her opinion, the worst form of human exercise, but she was still doing it. If she’d taken any time to think, she would stop, slow down, and go back to Matt; or better yet she wouldn’t have jumped from the car at all . 

The first thing she heard when she opened the door was so amazingly familiar that she felt as if she’d gone back in time. They were fighting. Again? Still? They hadn’t noticed her yet and she ducked behind a wall so she could be hidden from their view. The last time she’d tried to be a part of their fight, she’d been hit. She wasn’t going to have that happen again. 

“She’s my daughter, you can’t hide her away from me forever,” his voice was deep, low, and cold. She remembered now, that he was always the last one to escalate to shouting. She remembered that he was so passionless.

“Oh, NOW she’s your daughter? What about the last 3 years, Cliff? Was she your daughter then?” True to history, her mother was loud, almost yelling. Jade remembered the nights when this was all she heard from them. “Because I want to know why you think you have any claim to her.”

“You’re being hysterical. It wasn’t three years.”

He was right. The date was fixed in Jade’s memory. When she got her birthday card, it had been a year, eleven months and 6 days since he’d left. She’d done the math. Her father was right, it wasn’t three years yet, not close. For something to do, she tried to figure out how long it was now. 2 years, seven months, and 15 days. Not three years at all. 

“You’re still insane if you think you’re ever going to see her again!”

“I can come back with a lawyer.”

“So do it then.”

The next thing she heard was Owen crying and no one else seemed to hear it. Running was the worst form of human activity, and Jade thought that being there to see her dad was important enough to make an exception. She was wrong. There was only one good reason for her to be there right now, and that was Owen. He was alone in his room, scared and waiting, and no one was coming to help him. 

Everything came flooding back in an instant. She remembered every fight they ever had, every word, every shattered object, every slap. Every time she’d snuck out of the house because she didn’t feel safe. Even things she’d long forgotten, like their first fight. Their very first fight, 

She’d stayed up waiting for someone to tuck her in. She was alone, upset and guilty over the reaction her failure had caused, and not one person seemed to care. 

She would never let Owen feel like that. He was crying, she heard him. And she was going to make sure someone cared. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped out so they could see her. It surprised her that she didn’t feel the need to yell her next words. “Mom, Owen’s crying,” it came out just louder than a whisper. 

Her words cut through the shouting and the room was silenced immediately. Only Owen was still making noise.

“Jade….” her mother started. Jade noticed that her mother’s voice wasn’t as light as it had been recently. She wasn’t standing as tall and she wasn’t smiling. She looked like she would never dance in the kitchen again. She looked afraid. 

Jade knew exactly what her mother was feeling. She felt the same way, apparently, she had for a long time. The unnamable feeling had a name now, but that didn’t make it any less uncomfortable. In fact, it made it worse. She didn’t want to be afraid, no one should ever have that kind of power over her, and she hated her father for the fear he’d given her years ago when he showed her that she would never matter to anyone. 

It was a bitter aspect of reality, she still wasn’t sure how to deal with it. 

Fear melted away and was quickly replaced by anger. The same kind of blinding rage that had overtaken her the night when she realized he wasn’t coming back. When she’d destroyed everything in her room without prejudice, and she felt she no longer existed as anything other than a bundle of burning fury. 

It was exactly like that. Only this time she couldn’t lose control. She needed to prove him wrong, to show him that he hadn't destroyed her. 

“It’s okay. I….” Jade looked at her father, he looked the same. He was wearing nicer clothes than she remembered, or maybe she just had never seen him in this particular suit. She pushed her anger down into her gut, holding it so she wouldn’t explode. “I want to talk to him.”

She could hardly hear her own voice, not because it was quiet, but because her head was still throbbing. Her whole body was. Every inch of her was shaking with adrenaline and the world melted away. 

She didn’t notice when Matt burst in, blurting out an apology. She didn’t hear her mother tell him to go check on Owen. She didn’t notice when Owen stopped crying. Her gaze was fixed.

Jade looked at her father, assessing him. She had been a bundle of unintelligible emotions every time she’d thought of him, but now that he was here, she was scoring him on the facts of the moment. He looked like the kind of man who would drive the car outside. His shoes were polished, suit crisp. He stood rigid, stiff and he looked at her with a similar appraising glance. They were sizing each other up. 

“Hello,” he said finally. 

“Hello?” she repeated, incredulous. She hadn’t seen him in 2 and a half years, and all he had to say was “hello”? She waited, giving him the chance to say anything else, but he was still looking at her with a cold, calculating stare. She narrowed her eyes to glare at him, giving him one more look before walking towards the basement stairs. She wanted to leave him with something, a tiny comment. Something that let him know that she knew exactly what he’d done. “You forgot the milk,” she said, and she walked right past him. 

***

She didn’t slam her door. Quite the opposite, in fact, she took careful notice that she was closing it as softly as possible. Her whole body was screaming, but she was calm as she made her way over to the bed. 

Her father stood so rigid, and she copied his posture subconsciously as she sat down on the bed. Afraid to move one millimeter lest she lose the control she’d been able to muster. She clenched her jaw, and inhaled slowly. The air stayed in her lungs for a long time, an eternity held within that one breath. On her exhale, she curled her hands into fists. 

She winced, a tiny sting in the heels of her palms reminded her of the dozens of tiny scrapes that she still hadn’t cleaned up. Rather than stop, she clenched even harder digging her nails into the marked up skin where she’d hit the concrete. 

She’d rather deal with the sensation on her palms than the stinging behind her eyes, hurting was so much better when she could control it. The pain of her nails scratching into the bruising palms was her own responsibility, and she could stop it with the simple act of uncurling her fingers. 

So she focused on her hands, staring blankly at her fists for some period of time that she could not measure. It was almost like she was outside of her body, looking down on herself. The things around her didn’t seem real, and she felt like she was occupying a space free from time or reality. When she dug her nails into her skin, everything felt a little clearer. 

A knock at the door brought her back. She unclenched her fists, and now there was nothing that could stop the rage from boiling out of her. 

“Go away!” 

“We need to talk,” 

“NO!” Jade was sure that if she spoke now, she would say something that she’d regret later. She needed more time to think, to process this alone before risking anyone else.

The door opened anyway.

“Get out of my room.”

“It’s okay to be upset-”

“-I’m not upset!” She insisted.

Her mother stood there quietly for a while before making her way over to the bed. She sat down beside Jade, and didn’t say anything. The silence was inviting, it took all the pressure off, and she started trying to sort through her thoughts. 

“He sent me something for my birthday,” she said, finally. 

“You didn’t say anything about that.”

Jade stood up and made her way over to her desk. She pulled out the card and the necklace, the “J” swinging at the end of it’s chain. 

“I…” she searched for the words she wanted to use, but there weren’t any. She wasn’t sure she could define what was going on in her mind or her body, what she felt or thought. It was frustrating beyond belief, and the tears that had been gradually building over the course of the evening finally fell. 

“Sweetie,” her mother stood from the bed and crossed the room to pull her into a tight hug. 

The tears that rolled down her cheeks were silent, and she did not produce any more after they had all fallen. She used her wrist to wipe her eyes, angrier now because she hated to think that her father had been able to make her cry. 

Her mother looked at her and ran a hand across her hair to flatten it. “Do you want to see him again?” she asked, “Because, if you don’t, I will do everything possible to make that happen.” 

“He doesn’t even want me to see him again,” for Jade, the issue died there. 

“That’s not true,” her mother spoke softly, it was comforting. “He wants to get a lawyer. But I can get a lawyer too. If you tell me now that you don’t want to see him, I’ll make sure you don’t have to.” 

“I don’t know,” she admitted, deflated. 

“Jade, I need you to tell me if this is a fight worth having. If you want to see him again, that’s okay. But tell me so I don’t spend money we don’t have on a lawyer that can compete with the one he’s going to get.” 

Jade didn’t want to be responsible for this decision, she couldn’t begin to think about all the variables and possibilities. It was too much, she’d always been in charge of secrets and decisions that she should have been protected from. Why was this her responsibility? Why did she have to do everything by herself? 

“I don’t care,” is what she said instead. She was grasping at indifference to try and mimic the control she’d found when faced with her father. The cold, detached flatness of Clifford West; that’s what she was going for. 

“I want to know how you feel about this,” her mother insisted. 

Nothing. She felt nothing. And everything. She had the perfect word for it, she’d scribbled it out in her notebooks so many times over the past month. “Ambivalent,” she said, still expressionless. 

“What?”

“Ambivalent,” she repeated, louder. 

There was a confused expression on her mother’s face “I heard you, it’s just that-”

“-read a dictionary,” she shot back before her mother could finish asking her what it meant. 

“It’s rude to interrupt.”

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind so you don’t hit me again,” she remarked, sardonically. 

“Okay, this attitude is unacceptable,” her mother’s voice was raising and she crossed her eyebrows. 

“What are you going to do about it?” 

“Look, we’ll talk about it later. Right now I need to know what you want me to do about your father,” her mother stepped down in order to focus on her original intention. 

“Get a lawyer or don’t,” she shrugged, apathy in every single word she spoke, “Make your own decision for once in your life instead of asking me to take care of all your fucking problems for you.” She didn’t shout, didn’t raise her voice. The only hint of aggression came from a slight squint. 

“You cannot talk to me like that,” her mother was stern now, she was almost shouting. 

“And you can’t be a terrible mom for ten years and still expect me to care what you think, but here we are,” she offered her mother a flat smile before moving on to what she decided would be her final words for the night. “So, get out of my room. I don’t care WHAT you do,” she spoke clearly, enunciating every syllable “Just leave. Me. Alone.” 

It was past midnight before she left her room. She had been brainstorming different solutions to the decision her mother wanted her to make, in case she asked again on the weekend. In 7 hours, she’d be in rehearsal. Jade hoped she could avoid any questions about her dad or his lawyers until then; despite having thought about it obsessively for the better part of 5 hours, she still had not made a decision.

The night was warm, and the whole neighbourhood was asleep. She’d been memorising the alarm code over the past little while, she wasn’t supposed to know it. But from the corner of her eye she’d catch glimpses of how her mother's fingers moved across the buttons. She reset it before sneaking out.

Jade liked the world a little better when no one else was awake. There were fewer expectations and everything was quieter. The only noise was from the streetlamps buzzing and from distant traffic on the freeway. She walked past her driveway, fully aware that being alone at night wasn’t the smartest idea. As long as she stayed in the neighbourhood, in the streetlights so she could see everything, then she’d be fine. She wanted to put some space between her and the house...she wanted to be as free as possible while she tried to figure out what she was going to do about everything that had just happened. 

She was still dressed in her clothes from the day before, but with a new addition to the outfit. A silver necklace with an elegant cursive J, she twirled her fingers through the space between the chain and her neck. It was a good distraction. 

Part of her wanted to watch the fight that would ensue if they both had to get lawyers. It was flattering, in a way that also made her feel sick. If they started fighting again….she didn’t know what would happen.

Her mother was almost completely new now. Jade had never seen her smile so much, or dance or laugh. It took Matt to make her that way, and why would Jade ever want to do something that would change that? 

She’d learned what a home without fighting could feel like. Her father hadn’t even been back for a full day and he’d already compromised that feeling. Jade hadn’t seen that side of her mother in two and a half years. 

Owen deserved to have Matt as his dad. He deserved the version of her mother that existed whenever she wasn’t fighting with Clifford West. The one who smiled all the time and danced and didn’t use curse words and didn’t hit her kids. Jade wanted to do everything possible to keep that version of her mother. She never wanted Owen to see anything else. 

With every footfall, she tried to convince herself that she wasn't afraid of seeing her dad. That she wasn’t afraid of anything, she was a tough kid. The longer she walked, the better she felt about the problem at hand. She fiddled with the chain on her dad’s necklace and entertained the idea that she should have heard him out. Maybe he was as invested in this as she wanted him to be. All the anger she harboured for him couldn’t stop her from noticing that this was the closest she’d ever been to having both her parents want her. 

It felt like too much to ask for. Still, she let herself get swept off in the idea. A lot of kids split time between their divorced parents, this was no different. Sure; some kids, like Emily, never had to worry about that; but plenty of other kids were in shared custody and totally okay. If she played her cards right, she’d be fine. Better than fine, she’d have both her parents. 

The streetlamps ran out when she reached the end of the cul de sac and had to turn onto another road. The dark didn’t frighten her, and she figured that there was probably little risk at 2 am in the safety of the neighbourhood. Regardless of the many warnings she received from “safety days” at school, she kept walking. 

She hadn’t noticed how far she’d gone until she reached a bus stop. It wasn’t very far away, just enough to let her know that she should definitely start heading home if she hoped to get any sleep tonight. It was lit well enough that she could read all the maps and the bus times. There was a 33 coming in a half-hour. 

Jade wondered if she was kidding herself by believing this would work out. If she should just hop on that bus and take it so far away that she won’t even care that nobody noticed she’d gone missing. Maybe she’d go up north eventually and run through the woods, eating squirrels and fighting cougars. Then a vampire would kill her, and drain all her blood so she’d be gone forever. 

She stayed there long enough to watch the 33 approach the stop. It took every ounce of her willpower to turn around and walk home. 

At breakfast, she told her mother she wanted to see her dad again. For once in her life, she was going to choose the path of least resistance, see if it was all it’s cracked up to be. She didn’t want to invite that kind of tension into her life again, and if her mother was asking her to choose between fighting or surrender, then she chose surrender. Some things were worth surrendering for. Her mother, Matt, and Owen all had something worth protecting. She wasn’t going to ruin it by causing a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> -Trashdove


	13. Chapter 13

Jade had developed an uncanny ability to sniff out a fight before it even started, and she knew one was coming. Ever since she told her mother she wanted to see her dad again and she saw the tiniest little twitch of a frown. Then on Monday, she noticed the way her mother kept her answers short, not elaborating, not smiling. On Tuesday, she stirred dinner with more force than Jade thought was strictly necessary. 

It was a skill she’d developed from her countless evenings spent waiting to decide whether or not she’d have to sneak out of the house. When the nuance of word choice would indicate if an argument would turn physical if it would escalate to a point where she felt her own safety was compromised. Ideally, it would have been an ability that she would forget how to use, but the tension in the house was palpable now, and it only grew stronger. There was a fight lingering in the air, and it would be stupid of her to pretend she didn’t notice. 

Part of her wanted to get it over with already: to just fight now so it wouldn’t get bigger and bigger until it was no longer manageable. But then, that would defeat the purpose of her decision to try whatever custody arrangement her parents would come up with.

By Wednesday, Jade feared that somehow, her surrender had been the first move in what would eventually turn into another war. That she’d inadvertently invited conflict back into the home by trying to avoid it. When her mother came home from work, she was irritable, bossy, and she barely spoke at all except to snap at Matt for having forgotten to remind her of Owen’s doctor's appointment on Friday.

“If you had told me I would have called Rachel, she won’t be available on such short notice,” the words themselves weren’t mean, but there was a bite in her voice that inflected them. 

Jade wondered if this was it. After all, her parents’ arguments had always started with stupid snippy comments from her mother. It would depend on what Matt said next.

“I can take him,” he was, as always, calm and collected. Not rising in the least.

“No, it's fine,” her mother said in a way that made it clear that it definitely wasn’t ‘fine’ “I’ll just reschedule on the Wilsons AGAIN,” she said the last word with such force that Jade couldn’t help but slump down in her chair. 

She waited for the next move, the impending insult, the shouting, the hitting. But Matt didn’t respond. The only sound was the scraping of cutlery on the ceramic, and the occasional happy babble from Owen, who couldn’t read the room.

Owen, of course, was completely oblivious to the tiny changes in the home. This was mostly due to his age; at not quite one-year-old, he didn’t have amazing perception. In addition to this, Jade noticed that her mother’s animosity disappeared around him. She could tell it was fake, that it was a performance for his sake, and she was glad that her mother thought Owen was worth the effort. She just wished she could be too. 

On Thursday night, she snuck out again, walking through the neighbourhood to take a break from the weight of the impending fight. She could feel the oxygen being sucked from the room every time her mother walked in, and she just wanted to go somewhere she could breathe. 

Last time, she’d gone as far as the bus stop on Riverside before turning back, but tonight, she kept walking, daring herself each time to take another step. It was exciting, and more importantly, it gave her the space she felt she needed in order to think. The noise from the freeway was almost musical in its consistency, or it would be if Jade didn’t find the incessant honking of horns annoying beyond reason. 

She was close to the Baskin Robbins her mother sometimes took her to after rehearsals. She still didn’t like ice cream after having it for dessert every night when her mom was carrying Owen, but she liked milkshakes. Right next to it was a 7-11, and she thought that was as good a destination as any.

The inside of the store was a stark contrast from outside, overwhelmingly bright, and completely quiet except for the low volume of the radio. There were exactly five other people; a sorry looking couple of teenagers, an old man, a middle-aged woman, and the clerk behind the counter. None of them paid her any attention as she weaved through shelves, looking at the various snacks and drinks. 

Jade didn’t care for bubblegum; she could take it or leave it. But she always liked the strong flavours that were usually just for chewing: “adult gum” she had called it when she was little. A black and blue package caught her attention, the colour scheme was pleasing and it stood out in a sea of white and pink. 

She stood there for a minute, contemplating the gum. On one hand, she knew stealing was wrong, and on the other, she wanted it. It’s not like she was going to get caught, and it’s not like she was eyeing something expensive or interesting. It was a packet of gum, and absolutely no one would care if it went missing. She wanted to know what it tasted like, and she couldn’t know if she never tried it; and didn’t she deserve to know at least one thing for certain? She couldn’t know when her mother would snap, or what her relationship with her father would be like; but she could know what this black and blue gum tasted like. With a quick glance around her, she reminded herself that the world owed her. It was one of her rules. 

Her heart was beating so fast, but not in the same way it did when she would lose control. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up in anticipation of being caught, and she held her breath as if an exhale would prove her guilt. She bit the inside of her cheek and did her best impression of disinterest as she walked through several more aisles, hand enclosed around the gum in the pocket of her sweater. With each step, she felt bolder, and as she passed through the doors, the intensity of her apprehension lessened. By the time she was out of sight, it was gone, replaced by a rush of adrenaline. Her heart was still pounding harder than it needed to, but rather than filling her with dread, she allowed the sensation to make her feel lighter. Gravity no longer applied to Jade as she took quick, feather-light steps. It was the kind of high that only comes from getting away with something bad for the first time; like there was a whole part of the world she hadn’t considered before, and now she was limitless. 

When she passed the plaza, she tossed the outer layer of plastic on the ground and took out a brightly wrapped piece. It cooled her tongue the moment she bit it, peppermint spreading through her mouth as she chewed. Her problem with bubblegum had always been the colour and the flavour, but she admitted there was some satisfaction to be found in popping bubbles. This gum allowed her to do that, without being too sweet and too pink. She walked home to the rhythm of her own popping, smiling to herself and not feeling the slightest bit guilty. 

She allowed her mind to wander as she walked. It was packed fuller than usual lately, and she could feel the pull of her contrasting ideas weighing on her. She was simultaneously hopeful and pessimistic; wanting this custody agreement to work out but refusing to let herself truly believe it. If she prepared to be let down now, it wouldn't hurt as much later. Half the pain was in the shock, and if she removed that she might be able to survive another heartbreak.

At the same time, she knew she had to give this a shot, a real shot, because more than anything she wanted her parents to love her. Both of them. It was embarrassing, and she would never admit it because she feared it made her weak. Early on they had proven that their hatred for each other was more important than she was, and what did it say about her that she still cared what they thought. It would be pitiful if it weren’t so beyond pathetic. 

She didn’t want to want them. She wanted to be completely alone so no one could hurt her, and yet she had been tempted into believing that there was more to life than shutting people out. She had a life with her mother, Matt, and Owen. A happy one; or as close to happy as she thought she deserved to be. She knew she would always be an outsider among the three of them, but being with them felt good, and she took this moment to chide herself for falling into such an obvious trap. The perfect suburban life with the white picket fence didn’t exist, not for her. 

In her world, the perfect suburban family always died at the hands of some horrible attack. The white picket fence would ultimately stain red with blood, and the killer would move on. It was the shock factor that scared people who watched suburban horror. That something so awful would happen somewhere so pristine was unexpected, and therefore threatening. But Jade knew better. She knew to expect the worst because bad things happened wherever they felt like it. Remove the shock, and suddenly it’s not as scary. 

When she finally crept back into the house, it was half-past one, and the lightness of adrenaline was slowly ebbing away. She tossed her gum into the bathroom garbage, wadded up in a piece of toilet paper, and placed the rest of the pack on her desk when she went downstairs. 

She half-expected guilt would stop her from falling asleep, but it didn’t. She didn’t feel bad at all. 

***

Jade thought that it would be a while before her parents reached a custody arrangement: that she’d have more time to think about what to expect. Then, it could be like acting; she could write herself a script and rehearse in her head until she was sure she wouldn’t make a mistake. 

But on Friday night, during dinner, her mother told her she would be seeing her father the next day. Apparently, her parents had agreed that he would see her once a week for the time being: a trial run. Jade didn’t know when they’d discussed this, but she didn’t really care. As far as she was concerned, they could keep their fights to themselves. She just had hoped that she would get more than 22 hours notice. He’d be picking her up at 4. 

“Wait, tomorrow?” she asked, just to be sure. 

Owen was working on the finely chopped chicken that was scattered on the tray of his high chair. For whatever reason, this was worth her mother’s attention, but Jade’s pressing question was not. 

“Mom?”

“Yes, that’s what I said,” she snapped, “Your dad’s coming by at four.”

“How long am I going to be with him?”

Her mother appeared to have not heard this and turned instead to Matt. “Dr Chen says we can start introducing peanut butter...slowly.”

“How long am I going to be with him?” she asked again, more forcefully. 

“I don’t know, Jade,” she sighed, “he said he’d bring you back by 8:30. Four and a half hours, it’s like free daycare.” Jade was aware of how close they were getting to the fight that just kept growing. It was like a full propane tank, and her mother had lit a match right next to it.

“Honey…” Matt had stepped in, effectively blowing it out before it caught. But the tank was still full, and he couldn’t keep blowing out matches forever. 

Her mother must have realized this because she turned in her seat so she was finally looking at Jade. “It’ll be fine. He’ll probably take you somewhere nice for dinner… I’m sure you’ll have a great time,” the smile was unconvincing, but Jade was relieved that at least for the time being, they could make it through a meal without screaming. 

When dinner was finished, neither of them could leave the table fast enough. Her mother left first, but just by a fraction of a second as she muttered something about getting Owen in a bath. 

Jade went straight to her room and put on a CD; it didn’t matter which, she just wanted noise. She had less than 24 hours to figure out how she was going to make this work, and that wasn’t enough time by a long shot. Sure, she’d been coming up with ideas since she’d agreed to this a week ago, but they were just ideas. Not even, really, they were mostly just snippets of memories that she pulled to try and figure out what would impress him. 

She could mention her grades- they’d improved significantly since she’d last seen him. But that was hardly a plan and it certainly wouldn’t take four and a half hours. 

And she hadn’t even picked out an outfit. A week ago, he stood in the living room wearing a suit that screamed status, and she needed something that showed him she could be seen with him. There was the dress she’d been forced to wear to Matt’s sister’s wedding, but it was too fancy and she had always hated it. 

Clothing was the least of her worries. What if he asked her about what she wanted to be when she grew up? She hated that question whenever adults asked it, and she’d only ever answered honestly once. Technically not even; when she told Matt she wanted to be an actress, it was relatively unprompted, but he was the only person who knew. Okay: doctor, lawyer, accountant. Those were the careers that usually impressed adults, probably because they were boring and lacked imagination. But they were dependable. 

She couldn’t discount the possibility that her father would be as excited as Matt was, after all, he was her real dad. It just wasn’t the kind of thing she should mention right away, maybe she could ease him into it. He’d never even seen her perform. She’d probably have to mention her play, since apparently Saturdays were “his day” now, and opening night was two weeks away, on a Saturday. 

It was midnight before she realized the music had stopped playing. It was two am before she fell asleep. 

The morning had been a disaster. She had rehearsal until 11:30, then acting class until 1; and now at quarter-to-three, she was sitting in the den as the t.v played an obnoxious show at an unreasonable volume. One by one, she pressed on the fingers in her loosely closed fists until her knuckles popped, her gaze fixed down as she zoned out on the pattern in the rug. She could feel exhaustion pulling at her eyelids, but she kept herself awake by bouncing her knee.

“Jade can you turn it down?” her mom called from upstairs. 

Jade was pulled from her daze and she snapped her attention to the remote. She still wasn’t sure she wanted to do this, especially without a plan, and she couldn’t believe the audacity of her mother to ask anything else from her today. So she made the t.v. louder. 

A few minutes later, her mother came downstairs, grabbed the remote and turned the volume down again. “I know you’re nervous,” she said, “but we just put Owen down for a nap, so I need you to keep quiet.”

Jade scoffed and rolled her eyes. She was exhausted, and she no longer had any energy to stop this fight from happening. It was only fitting that she’d lose her mom on the day she got her dad back. Poetic, even. 

“Look, I know this is hard but I could do without the attitude.” 

“Well, I’ll be gone all evening, so,” Jade narrowed her eyes pointedly and offered up a mean smile, “lucky you. It’s like daycare”

“That’s not what I-” 

“-and this isn’t that hard, you know,” she added, maybe too quick to be entirely believable. “People see their parents all the time, it’s not a big deal,” the lie was more for herself than her mother. 

Her mother sat down beside her, too close for Jade’s comfort “I know I haven’t been,” she let out a sigh, “ I haven’t been a very good mom this week.”

“Yeah? Try ever.”

“We can have that talk another time. Right now…” she was fiddling with one of her rings, swirling it on her knuckle. “Sweetie, right now more than ever, I need you to be honest with me. Okay? About everything.” 

Jade let out a frustrated moan “I know!”

Her mother shook her head and turned to look at her, “Sweetie, no,” she spoke deliberately “I need you to promise you’ll tell me how you feel.”

“Gross,” she reached for the remote in her mother’s hands as a clear indication that she was done with this conversation but her mother pulled it away. “Why’d you even ask me what I wanted if you were going to be such a bitch about it anyway?” Jade had never wanted to make this decision, but she had, and she wished her mother would respect it instead of making it more difficult. 

“I don’t trust him, Jade. Okay? He-” she cut herself off, stopping before she lost control. She took in a deep breath and smoothed her hands across the tops of her thighs. “I can’t compete with him. He’s got his dad’s money now, and he’s got this new job- I can’t get the kind of lawyer he can. If I took him to court over this- and I lost? I don’t know what would happen,” she admitted, and for the first time ever, Jade thought that perhaps she and her mother were in the same boat. That they were both uncertain of the future and that they were both just trying to do the right thing. 

The moment of empathy did not last very long and did not move any closer to respect. Jade cast her gaze at the rug again, tracing the outlines of the hexagons with her eyes. She was still processing her mother’s words and didn’t have a response yet. She wasn’t used to this kind of honesty, and it did little to reassure her. 

“But I’ll do it,” her mother broke the silence, “If you give me even the slightest hint that you don’t want this. Promise me, Jade,” she pleaded. She placed the remote on the coffee table in front of them and gently lifted a hand to her daughter’s cheek, turning her face so they were eye to eye, “promise me you’ll tell me if this isn’t working out.” 

Jade looked into her mother’s eyes, she could feel the warm gaze digging through her. Not in the same way that her father’s stare had. He’d looked at her like she was a puzzle for him to solve. Her mother was softer, more compassionate. Much more concerned. “I promise.” 

“Okay,” and then to Jade’s utter horror, her mother leaned forward and pressed a kiss into her forehead. The horror stemmed not from the kiss itself, but from the fact that she couldn’t remember ever being kissed on the forehead like that. It must have been something her mother did with Owen and she was confused about which child she was with right now. The confusion was almost insulting since Jade was 10 years older than him and female, but she didn’t mind entirely. 

The doorbell acted as an alarm clock, jolting her upright and forcing her to turn towards the front door. Even though she’d just promised, she said nothing about how much her father scared her. 

And she hadn’t even had a conversation with him yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stealing is bad. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> -Trashdove


	14. Chapter 14

The doorbell ringing had sent her heart plummeting into her stomach, and suddenly she was more concerned about throwing up than she was about an evening with her father. Jade turned to her mother, who didn’t look like she planned on leaving the den any time soon. 

Matt leaned in the doorway to the kitchen, “He’s here."

Her mother made no motion that indicated she was ready to greet her ex-husband at the door, “Yes, obviously I know that!” 

Jade watched the two of them exchange looks. It was clear they were having some kind of silent conversation, at the end of which her mother shook her head defeated and said, “I can’t.” 

Matt nodded, “c’mon, kid, we shouldn’t keep him waiting," Jade followed him through the kitchen to the front foyer. Before he opened the door, Matt looked at her and squeezed her shoulder. “Ready?” 

She wasn’t. She hadn’t been given enough time to prepare, and she was still tired from having stayed up so late trying to figure out what would impress him. Instead of answering Matt, she stared at the door, breath shaky. There had been pockets throughout the week where she’d been excited about this, but for the last 24 hours, she’d felt nothing but dread. 

Matt must have noticed some of her apprehension because he crouched down in front of her, a hand on each of her shoulders. “Hey,” he said, giving her an encouraging smile and a little nudge, “you got this.”

She looked up at him, his reassuring gaze cutting right through her. He knew. Somehow, he’d always been able to tell that somewhere under all her bravado she was so angry that it frightened her. More than anything, she wanted to stay here with him. To talk to him, and have him hold her so she could finally scream out everything she’d been holding onto for years. “Matt, I’m-” but the doorbell cut her off before she could whisper out the rest. Scared. 

Matt straightened up, keeping one hand wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close. She leaned into him the slightest bit, just enough that maybe if she changed her mind at the last second, he’d be able to tell by the shift in her posture. “It’ll be okay, kid,” he stretched out his arm and opened the front door. Her father was waiting on the steps, foot tapping impatiently. 

When he saw her, he squared up, rooting both feet firmly to the ground. The absence of a suit did nothing to make him less stiff; he was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and still somehow looked like he was calculating every minor detail like it was his job. Again, he appraised her, just looking her over before he said anything. “Jade,” which she supposed was better than ‘hello’. He even nodded at the necklace she’d been sure to wear, “I see you got that.” 

“Yeah,” Jade decided not to tell him that it was only the second time she’d worn it. That his note had sent her spiralling and that she hated every inch of him for hurting her the way he had. She stayed rooted to the spot, not moving away from Matt. 

Matt cleared his throat poignantly and stuck out his hand, which her father shook. “Don’t think we’ve met properly,” he said, a hint of dislike in his usual bubbly voice, “I’m Matt.” 

“The boyfriend.” 

“That’s right.” Matt’s smile was so obviously fake that Jade could tell he never once took acting lessons, and her dad didn’t smile at all. When they finally stopped shaking hands, Matt turned to her, “ready?” he asked for the second time that afternoon. 

Jade knew that if she told him she didn’t want to go, he wouldn’t make her. He would keep holding her against his side so that Clifford West would never hurt her again. She could stay here with him, and he and her mother would make sure she never had to even think about her father.

She also knew that she couldn’t risk what might happen if she forced her mother into a custody battle. Already, even without conflict, the tension had gotten to the point where any comment might turn into an argument. No one could put out fires forever, and the best course of action was to remove the source of conflict. So, she had to stop that fight before it happened.

“Uh-huh,” she hoped she was fooling everyone when she stepped towards her father in her best imitation of confidence. She tensed her muscles to stop herself from shaking and she wanted nothing more than to turn back to Matt, but she reached her father’s side. She reminded herself why she was doing this and gave herself one last chance to feel hopeful. 

“Alright,” Matt shifted on his feet, eyes flitting between Jade and her father, “Uh, have a good time,” he said to her before glancing at her father, “And, um, Ellen wanted me to remind you to be back-”

“-8:30. I know. Take care, Mike.” 

“Matt-” but his words were cut short as Jade and her father walked away to the car. 

The entire drive was spent in absolute silence; not even music coming from the car radio. It wasn’t what she was used to; her mother was always talking, trying and failing to bond with her. Matt at least played music. It might have been a comfortable silence if there weren’t a million problems looming over her head. She wanted to ask him why he left, why he came back, but the silence in the car was so thick and oppressive that she was scared to break it.

Jade had driven through Beverly Hills before; her mother liked commenting on the listed houses, but it was different knowing that her dad actually lived here. They pulled up to a black iron gate, and he reached out to put in a code. It was nothing like the condos in her neighbourhood. The ones she’d seen weren’t gated off the way her father’s was and they didn’t have tennis courts, let alone three of them. The unit itself was spacious with natural light pouring through the large windows. It was smaller than her house, but not by so much that it was immediately noticeable. There was no artwork on the walls: no photos or paintings, and it made the space feel even larger but twice as empty. 

There were three bedrooms. One had been converted into a home office, and the master bedroom was obviously her father’s. He showed her to her room, the last door on the right.

“I didn’t paint,” he explained as she looked at the blank room. “I remember the fit you threw over the pink walls in your old room.”

“Yeah, ‘cause pink’s an awful colour…” she trailed off as she walked in to inspect the space. There was a desk and a queen-sized mattress tucked in the corner on a white wrought iron frame. It matched the rest of the house, even though it was a little too ‘princessy’ for her taste. She imagined that it was his idea of what a ten-year-old girl would want, and even though she’d always thought it would be cool to sleep in a coffin (even just once) Jade appreciated the evident effort. 

Across from her bed, there was a glass door which she opened up, stepping out onto a balcony. It had good views of the palm tree encased pool, where she could see a few other resident’s tanning in the lounge chairs. There was a boy about her age standing on the waterfall feature, prepping for a dive. 

“Like it?” 

She turned her gaze from the pool back into the room-her room- where her father stood, arms crossed in front of him. “It’s pretty cool,” because it was. It looked like something from out of a movie except for the glaring fact that it was fairly bland. 

They didn’t stay at the condo for very long, and spent the rest of their time together shopping around Beverly Hills.“Ellen will get over herself eventually,” they were browsing through a home store. He’d insisted that she pick out a colour for her walls. “And then you’ll be spending half your time here- yeah add it to the cart,” but he didn’t really look at what she’d picked off the shelf. 

She’d been showing him the wall clock that caught her eye. All black, twisted into elegant geometric patterns with numbers woven throughout the design. She wished he’d given it even the tiniest glance before just agreeing to buy it, but she didn’t complain too much. He bought her everything she pointed at. 

Her mother had been right when she said they’d probably go somewhere nice for dinner. It was fancy, but not black-tie, and though there were several exotic-sounding dishes, there were still several items she could recognize on the menu. She copied his order, to see if that would impress him at all. Though she immediately regretted it once the waitress walked away, because she wasn’t sure she’d like lobster ravioli. 

Most of her memories of him involved him screaming, so Jade was slightly surprised to learn that her father was a man of few words. When he did ask questions, they were short and to the point, “you’re in 4th grade now?” 

“5th.” 

He nodded, and carved into a piece of the pasta in front of him. He didn’t push her for more information, and silence stretched between them again as they ate their dinner.

Jade focused on moving her ravioli around in the bowl, not looking at him. She took an awkward bite, still worried she’d made a mistake by trying something new, but it was quite good. 

The waitress filled their waters twice before he asked another question “What’s your favourite subject?” 

There was no need to lie yet. It was a safe question, so she gave an honest answer. “Art,” she looked at him but the second they made eye contact, she looked down again. 

“That’s not a real subject.” 

Every fibre of her being told her to stand up and make a scene. To defend the subject and the pastime that kept her feeling alive when nothing else did. But the evening needed to go well, so she simply closed her fist and stayed seated.

She squared up and looked right at him, not breaking eye contact this time. “English,” and it wasn’t a total lie. She liked reading and writing, but she wished she could choose her own books and write the stories she wanted to. They always had to respond to a prompt or a picture, and Jade didn’t necessarily want to write about her happiest memory. She didn’t have one.

At the time she’d made one up. A character who she wrote about in first person, and that character’s father. Driving home the long way after acting class and nodding along to old music. Top down so the wind could blow through her hair, even though she hated untangling it later. 

It wasn’t a real memory, but she saw too many things that she recognized from her own life, and it troubled her. So she crossed it all out and instead wrote about a fake trip to the beach. It was easier when it was all a lie. 

“Ah,” he was still disappointed by her answer; she could tell by the way his knife was making harsh contact with the plate. He didn’t look at her again for two minutes. “What about math?” 

She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows the tiniest bit out of sheer frustration. “It’s alright.” 

“Good,” and they didn’t speak at all until they pulled into her mother’s driveway. 

“I’ll see you in a week.” 

“Uh-huh.”

It soon became very clear that he had no intention of walking her to the door, so she was alone when she knocked. 

It was Matt who let her in, “she’s home!” he called back into the house. 

“Thank god!” her mother came bursting through the kitchen, “it is 8:38, Cliff, you-” she looked at Matt, then Jade and back at Matt, “did he not walk her up?” 

“Shocked?” He asked her, and Jade could tell that they’d talked about this while she was out. 

Jade’s mother pushed right past her to get to the front door, not even giving her a second glance. “I’m gonna kill-”

“-Honey,” Matt put his arm out to catch her before she could turn the knob, “maybe we should just ask Jade how it went?” 

It was as if he’d spoken her into existence, and upon hearing Jade’s name, her mother turned to look at her, eyebrows knitted together. Jade was pulled into a tight hug, but released again fairly quickly, “Let’s move into the living room. I want to hear all about it.”

It was impossible to ignore their expectant stares as they sat across from her: like they were waiting for her to say that she’d had an awful time, or that she never wanted to see him again. But neither of those were true. It hadn’t been exceptionally pleasant, but there were fun parts to the evening. Jade told them about the condo, detailing that she could see the pool from her balcony. 

“It’s funny, you know. I wanted to put a pool in the backyard, but your fath-” her mother shook her head before she could finish the sentence, “that sounds really cool,” she said, like it killed her. 

After the near-insult, Jade decided it was best to keep her descriptions vague. She didn’t boast about the amount of shopping or the fancy dinner.

Her mother nodded along, skeptical. “He didn’t….say or do anything you think he shouldn’t have?” 

Just that art wasn’t a real subject. Art was very real, and she had now lost hope that her father would be excited about her dream job as a rich and famous actor. Other than that, nothing stuck out, so she shook her head. “No.” 

“You remember our promise?” 

It was a promise she made only 5 hours ago, and already so much had changed. Her own ideas about her father were different now that she’d spent some time with him and seen her room at his place. It was feeling more real than it had all week, and she could finally start imagining her life split up between her two parents. It could be alright. The promise implied that something was bound to go wrong, but maybe that wasn’t the case. 

Still, it was hard to completely dismiss the concern that seemed permanently ingrained on her mother’s face. Jade remembered how honest their conversation had been, just before her dad arrived, and she decided to keep her sarcastic remarks to herself. “Yeah. I remember.”

***

In some respects, the timing was perfect. With the opening night of her play just around the corner, she didn’t have time or energy to worry about anything else. Usually, Jade would tool around with perspective, and try to think about the possible implications behind phrases like “art isn’t a real subject” or “Ellen will get over herself”, but she didn’t. She decided to take him at face-value, not reading into anything he said or didn’t say. 

Rehearsals were getting more intense as opening night crept up, and she was happy for the work. It was an effective distraction, but she was also overly aware of how cool it was. When the playbills were printed, she noticed she was listed early on in the cast list. Jennifer Hughs----Jade West, it said. Near the top, because it just so happened that she was the second main character. Her parents could sort out whatever petty arguments they had left; no one was going to ruin this for her. 

Even at school, she spent almost all her time thinking about it. Emily got a break for the first time in months because Jade was preoccupied at recess: sketching out her blocking in her notebook or writing out her lines so she could dissect them a final time before her next rehearsal. It sometimes happened that she would mindlessly doddle and let her mind wander, but even then she mostly came up with grand notions of what opening night would be like. Laurie, the play’s director, had connections in the industry; some of the cast were already talking about whether or not any agents would be in the crowd. 

Best case scenario: she got discovered, starred in a movie, became incredibly rich, and never had to worry about her mom or dad again. When she had enough money, she could live all by herself in a big house. But a really big house. A house so big that the space surrounding her would be so vast that she would never have to even think about another human being. And she would build a fence. 

Worst case scenario: she blew her lines and nobody ever cast her in another play again. She’d show up to audition and everyone would laugh until she left. She would then have to finally admit that she wasn’t good at anything. Not even the thing she loved. 

By the time opening night was a week away, she spent so much time thinking about all the possible mistakes she could make. The sheer effort of combatting that anxiety was enough that it meant there wasn’t enough room in her brain to worry about her parents, too. 

On Friday she sat down to sketch the stage for what had to be the sixth time by now. Her goal was to know it inside out and backwards. Keeping everything to scale was difficult, but everything else was fine. There was probably a more efficient way around the couch when she was running away from the ghost of her friend. As of now, it was still an awkward path, and she’d tripped twice when they first planned it out. She could plan an alternative route now and show the director in the morning- see if Laurie liked it. 

Come to think of it, there were a lot of tiny nuances she could add that might help with her performance. Jade wished she could control everything, she respected Laurie’s vision, and knew better than to fight with her director; but there were some scenes and some blocking where they didn’t see eye-to-eye. That’s why she was still drawing, redrawing,planning, and obsessing over every aspect of her performance. 

About halfway through her sketch, it occurred to her that she was going to have to tell her father about the play. She’d been so focused all week that she’d almost forgotten that she was supposed to be with him again tomorrow. It was still hard to believe that this was going to happen regularly, and she hoped he wouldn’t have a problem with her play falling on one of “their” days. If he even considered it to be “their” day. 

Matt waited with her at the door, her mother still refused to stand in the same room as her dad. Their conversation at the door was a lot smoother than last weekend, and Jade felt almost no apprehension as she followed her dad out to the Bently. She didn’t mind the looks they got driving through the neighbourhood; the tinted windows meant that no one could really see them. Besides, the attention would fade away as soon as they turned down Hollywood and disappear altogether by the time they reached Beverly Hills. 

The lack of art caught her off-guard, even though she’d been here only a week ago, and she remembered his assertion that art was not a real subject. Her stomach knotted together when she remembered she was going to have to tell him about her play today. She had no idea what to expect; what with his artless walls. 

“I don’t cook, but I’ll order Chinese,” it was the first thing he said to her since their brief greeting back at her mother’s house.

So far, aside from the obvious history that neither of them had addressed, Jade’s only problem with her father was that he was so boring. He lived in a cool condo that he didn’t know how to decorate, and as far as she could tell he had no hobbies. He couldn’t even cook, and when he ordered their takeout it was without asking her what she wanted. They ate in heavy silence that was only punctuated by the occasional question asked between bites with a clear lack of interest. 

“How was school this week?”

“Good.” 

They went back to their respective bowls, Jade struggled with the chopsticks. 

“Here,” he sighed, positioning the chopsticks in her hands. It was a hurried motion, like her inability to use them was some faux-pas he had to fix. “Like this, and then,” he moved to show her, demonstrating the movement himself. 

Jade didn’t thank him, but she smiled to herself when she picked up her next chicken ball without difficulty. 

After dinner, he asked if she wanted to go for a swim. It was March still, but fairly warm outside and he assured her that the pool was heated. 

He was strong enough that he could still throw her in the water, and she remembered he used to do that when she was much younger. Back when they’d been a happy family, when they took trips to Oregon every summer to visit her grandmother, and they’d go hiking in the woods. 

“You taught me to swim…” she remembered. In the lake at her Gramma’s house. 

He nodded by way of acknowledging this. Then asked, “do you remember what I called you that summer?” 

It was around the time of her fifth birthday, which felt like ages ago now. She had to think for a moment. She’d been scared of going in the lake, didn’t like all the fish and weeds that made it all murky. But in the shallows by the dock, he’d shown her the tiny fish, too small to do any damage, and he’d been able to convince her to jump into the water. Once she was swimming, he called her- “it was little minnow, wasn’t it?” 

“That’s right,” he affirmed, then he picked her up and threw her into the deep end again. They did that while the sun set around them, only stopping when it had completely left the sky and the temperature dropped too low for even the heated pool. She shivered under her towel as they walked back to the condo, the pathways now lit by street lights whose posts were hidden in palm trees. 

“You have a really cool place,” she said, craning her neck up at the lamps to try and find where metal stood out from the textured bark of the palms. One of the posts stood out a little in front of the trunk, but the illusion was hardly shattered. For most of it, it seemed as though the lights were just hanging from the fronds. 

“I know.”

And they were silent again, but it was different from their other silences. It was comfortable, and Jade wondered if she’d been wrong to be as worried as she had been. It was more than possible that she and her father would rebuild something that had been missing from her life long before she’d even realized it. 

He’d turned on the heated seat for her, even though she should still be sitting in the back. It was nice, and slowly she stopped shivering. The drive between his condo and her mother’s house took about half an hour, and she spent most of it working up the nerve to tell him about next weekend. 

“Hey, dad?” 

“Mm.”

“I-uh- have this thing on Saturday.” A play. She had a play. More than that, she had a play where she was an irreplaceable character. 

“Ellen mentioned that,” but he didn’t say anything else for another few minutes, “do you want me to come?” 

Yes. She couldn’t articulate how much, or even admit it to herself; so she shrugged. “I mean, if you want to,” like it didn’t really matter. 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

She ignored the pounding in her ribcage and flattened the smile that threatened to break out across her face. “Cool,” and she held her composure for the rest of the drive. 

Jade found it was hard to pretend she wasn’t thrilled when her mother asked how the evening had gone. Like last week, she wore a concerned look.

“It was fine,” Jade kept her answer short to avoid further conversation. But she anticipated the follow-up questions.

Her mother wanted to talk about everything, never accepted short answers, and pushed conversations that were uncomfortable or unnecessary. Jade had always found it annoying, but even more so now that she knew comfortable silence was possible. “What did you do?” 

Jade kept her eye roll to herself, her dad probably wouldn’t ask such a pointless question. “Went swimming...actually, I’m pretty tired,” she made a show out of stretching to prove her point, “I’m gonna hang out in my room.”

“Wait, I have some more questions-”

“I don’t have any answers,” she smiled flatly and walked away leaving her mother on the couch in the living room. It was partially true, at least. Sure, she could sit in the living room and be interrogated for a half-hour like last weekend; or she could do what she needed to stop herself before she got too optimistic about the events of the evening. 

But the way she’d felt when they’d played in the pool was hard to ignore. The familiar arms around her, tossing her, smiling with her over shared memories; that was special. It was warm and inviting, and Jade didn’t know what to make of it. She’d never considered herself to be broken or incomplete; but then when their silence shifted from awkward to comfort, she felt like he was glueing pieces of her together again. 

It was entirely possible that he wasn’t the problem, that she’d been angry at him for years when she shouldn’t have been. He was boring and awkward, but maybe he deserved this second chance. If things kept going well she could forge a happy life for herself: something she had long ago decided just wasn’t in the cards for her. But maybe it was, and her dad was the last missing piece. She’d wasted so much time being angry; breaking things to feel like she fit in. It was exhilarating to think that she could stop all that.

Even if she knew it was a little too hopeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry all, it's been a time. Family crisis and I couldn't get to the computer much over the last two weeks, so I know this is super late. Please, don't lose interest- I'm back home now and I'll be more on time with updates again! 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, and leave a comment! Love seeing what's working (and what isn't). 
> 
> -Trashdove


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back on my self-assigned deadline of every 5-9 days! Enjoy this chapter, which almost wrote itself because it was so nice to give the kid a break. Let me know what you think! Also, and this goes without saying, but don't smoke.

It was their final dress rehearsal, and everything was going wrong. Jade forgot her lines, tripped over her feet while blocking, and missed three of her cues. The rest of the cast seemed to be doing mostly alright, though Laurie’s temper was such that several people made mistakes out of sheer panic. 

“Everybody take five, and someone get me a fucking cigarette!” Laurie called to the cast by the time they reached the end of act one. Jade let out a long exhale to see if that would shake off whatever was causing her to keep screwing up. “Not you,” she pointed at Jade, “you, come with me.” 

Jade followed her out into the alley behind the theatre, where there were already two people smoking. Laurie pulled a cigarette out of a half open pack that one of the technicians had given her. She took a long drag, visibly relaxing once the nicotine hit het, “what’s up with you today, and will you get over it by tomorrow?” her voice was still harsh, but not nearly as irritated as it had been during the first act. 

Jade didn’t know how to answer that, namely because she couldn’t identify a single root cause. She’d been concerned about doing a good job, but she wasn’t nervous to perform. If anything, she was tired. She’d been sleeping less and less leading up to opening night which was now only one more sleep away. She wished she had a concrete answer on whether or not her dad would be in the audience; the last she’d heard about it from him was that he would see what he could do. Which was infuriatingly vague. 

But whatever the reason; be it nerves, lack of sleep, or cryptic parents, she knew she had to get over it before opening night. There was no other option. “I’ll be okay.” 

Laurie squinted at her and exhaled a large amount of smoke. “I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time. It took me 8 years of shit work just to rent out the theatre,” if Jade had never heard her director speak before, the severity of her tone might have been upsetting. But Jade had been working with Laurie for months, and she had nothing but respect for the woman in front of her. “I need to know everything that might put it at risk. Including whatever drama goes on in the lives of my actors.”

“It’s fine,” she insisted, dismissing Laurie’s concerns. But the woman gave her a raised eyebrow and she could tell she wasn’t getting out of this conversation without an answer, “I don’t know what’s wrong today, but I’ll fix it for tomorrow,” Jade understood the importance of putting on a good show. Whatever was bothering her, it couldn’t matter by the time the curtains opened tomorrow night at seven pm sharp. This understanding added an edge to her voice, she needed her director to know she was also frustrated by her failures and she was focused on doing a good job. 

Laurie nodded as she took a long drag of her smoke, “Francine always drones about her little proteges,” she got the whole sentence out in her exhale, “It’s annoying. I’ve seen probably fifty ‘crazy talented kids’,” she used her free hand to draw quotations in the air, her other hand still holding a burning cigarette between her fingers, “and when she told me she had one for my play I wanted to kill her.”

Jade bit back the chuckle that threatened to escape during this serious moment. This was not the first grim remark made by the director, but Jade found it quite refreshing. It was funny, and she wasn’t used to adults being so blunt around her. 

“But you’ve got the chops, right?” she took another drag of her cigarette. “You were off book at our first table read,” that particular accomplishment had taken Jade two sleepless nights, but it had earned her the name ‘superstar’. “When you’ve got talent and dedication like that, you don’t need to worry about petty bullshit like everyone else. Nerves, and other people, shit like that, it just doesn’t matter when you’re doing your thing,” she stomped the butt of her cigarette into the ground and turned to look at Jade. “So, whatever’s going on today isn’t worth your time. Get your head in your performance, because that’s where you’re going to shine.” 

Again, Jade was left without a response. She copied Laurie when the woman leaned against the brick wall behind them, crossing her arms in front of her to imitate her director’s posture. “You really think I’m that good?” 

“I’ve seen you work that stage like it was your bitch. They can’t teach that,” Laurie often spoke to Jade like she wasn’t a child. It was refreshing, and she knew better than to repeat these words unless she was in a fight. Mostly, it just made her feel more grown-up and capable. “ So you better deliver tomorrow, superstar, you know you can.” 

Jade smiled at the return of her nickname after half a dress rehearsal of screwing up. She waited backstage during their rehearsal of act two, shaking out her limbs until she heard her cue. The rest of the day went smoothly, and Laurie gave them all a parting speech before they left for the evening. Urging them to get in a good night’s sleep, and threatening them into putting on a good show the following evening. 

Her mother was waiting in the car in the small parking lot outside the theatre and waved at her the moment she stepped out. Once Jade was buckled up, her mother turned to look at her in the backseat, “how was it?”

“Fine,” she decided that no one outside the cast and crew needed to know that she had almost singlehandedly destroyed the first act. 

“Oh, come on!” Her mother smiled as they pulled out into the traffic that was going to keep them on the freeway for a long time, “was it fun? Are you excited? Nervous?”

This was three times the appropriate amount of questions (though ideally there would be none at all) and Jade found that she missed the silence of the car rides with her father. He never asked this many questions. He let the silence hang for a while which allowed her time to think instead of assaulting her with conversation before she had time to settle into the seat. 

Jade didn’t want to explain that “fun” wasn’t the right word, but that she was happy to be doing it anyway. It should be obvious to anyone who knew her that she was excited. And, as Laurie said, she was too talented to be nervous. So she pretended not to have heard. 

“Jade… come on! Tell me about it.” 

She wondered if it was this incessant small talk that had eventually driven her father away, “I told you. It was fine,” she kept her voice flat, unimpressed, and leaving out any trace of emotion. It was the way her dad talked but it was easy to imitate, and it shut out further conversation because it was so bland. 

It must have worked, too, because her mother allowed for nearly ten minutes of silence before she spoke again, “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. It’s good to see you so interested in something.” 

“You know dad’s going to be there,” she left out the part where it wasn’t actually clear whether or not her father would be in attendance. Jade had been watching her mother tense up at the mention of him for the past three weeks, and she wanted to know if his presence would change her mother’s excitement. Jade wanted to know if her mother loved her more than she hated her father. 

She watched as her mother looked in the rearview mirror nervously, stiffening up behind the wheel, “Sweetie, I don’t know if you should get your hopes up about that.”

“Why not?” there was an edge in her voice that made it very clear that this was a challenge. Jade already knew there was a good chance her father wouldn’t be there tomorrow night; this wasn’t about him, it was about what her mother would say next. 

But there was no reply. 

“You don’t think he’ll come?” another challenge. Jade was aware that maybe it wasn’t fair to be testing her mother this way, but it was so satisfying. This was not the first time she’d been torn between what she knew was wrong and what felt good in the moment. And, God, did it feel good to watch her mother sweat under the pressure of saying the right thing, “ or you don’t want him to come?” Since her mother was in the mood to press for answers, Jade thought this was the perfect opportunity to push harder, see if she could get to the root of the problem. If it caused a fight, so be it. 

“I want whatever makes you happy,” there was a force behind her words, and somehow Jade could tell her mother knew she was being tested. Which defeated the purpose, but she was interested to see where this would go. She let her mother keep talking, “So of course, I want him there if that’s what you want.”

“So you think I shouldn’t get my hopes up because you don’t think he’ll come?” Again, she was fully aware of the real possibility that her dad would not be there. But she’d started down this path of inquiry, and she was going to see it through. 

“I didn’t say that-” 

“-But that’s what you meant, isn’t it?” 

There was more silence as her mother searched for her next words, “I just don't want it to be like last time,” and the impact was such that Jade was quiet in her seat.

She didn’t need the reminder, it was still vivid in her memory. Regardless of whether she was too talented for nerves, she started to worry about whether or not she’d look out in the audience and be crushed by something as simple as an empty chair. 

That kind of anger was impossible to handle, it was too big for her. It made her feel like she was on fire, and that anyone or anything within her vicinity was an immediate obstacle that she had to get rid of. She couldn’t recognise herself the two times she’d been that angry, and she was aware that both times were because of her dad. 

But he couldn’t possibly do that to her a third time. Right?

*** 

Jade didn’t attend acting classes on opening night.

She mentioned it last week, and Francine was emphatic with her support, “Oh, you need to focus all your energy on the performance. Absolutely, oh, and make sure you drink a lot of tea- good for the throat when you’re projecting across a larger audience than you’re used to.” 

The theatre could hold up to 700 people, though Laurie didn’t think they would sell that many tickets. Immediately, when her mother dropped her off at 5, Jade’s concern about spotting an empty chair went away. From all their rehearsals, she knew that the lights were so bright she wouldn’t be able to see the audience. Even if she could, there would be so many people and her parents would just blend into the mass.

Ten minutes to curtain. She could feel herself getting lighter in her chest as the anticipation of performing crept closer. The cast members around her were all taking final gulps of water or doing desperate, last-minute wardrobe checks. Laurie walked into the backstage space, dressed in all black. 

She cleared her throat importantly and got everyone’s attention immediately. Jade looked at her, waiting for her pre-show pep-talk, “For christ’s sake, don’t any of you fuck up.” 

A few people laughed, Jade among them. They’d heard several motivational speeches from her during their hours of rehearsals; about how they were a great cast and she loved working with them, how it was her dream to be putting on this play, how she was grateful for their effort. They didn’t need a long spiel no. Her message was blunt, threatening, and to the point. It was quintessential Laurie. 

“Love you too!” called out one of the men who Jade realized she would not miss once this was over. 

“Break a leg out there, guys,” she smiled at them one more time before walking over to her spot in the wings. 

The lights were just as bright as they had been in dress rehearsal, and Jade was right; they completely drowned out the audience. It forced her to connect with her scene partner when she delivered her first line. The audience laughed, and she knew the rest of her performance would go off without a hitch. 

She had to hand it to Laurie, the woman made all the right choices. The audience laughed when they were supposed to, and quieted down immediately when hit with a serious moment. Jade noticed the deafening silence while she delivered her tearful monologue about her dead friend. 

Jade was used to feeling powerful in a fight, or when she made Emily cry, but this was the first time she’d ever felt like that in a positive setting. It was always a good feeling, like she was on top of the world like she could do anything; only now it was coming from a sense of true belonging. The lights shone through her, warming every part of her body and completely freeing her from all the pent up frustration she’d been holding onto. She said her lines without thinking, not needing to second guess her delivery, and she even changed two of them in the moment with positive reactions from the audience. 

It hadn’t been a true “in the moment” change, they were two of the lines she’d been most worried about, and she’d written them out about nine times each, dissecting every word. In the moment, she was able to choose which of those nine interpretations fit the best, and she pulled it off without second-thought. 

Before she knew it, the first act was over and she hurried backstage to down an entire bottle of water during intermission. 

She was buzzing from head to toe, so much so that she accepted the excited hug from the only other child in the cast. Kelly, who played Stacy, was already in her ghost makeup. Jade was two years younger, and the two had never gotten along off stage, but she’d never felt so high-spirited in her life, and she was glad that someone was there to share in the moment. 

Laurie came up to the two of them, giving brief notes and reminders for their performances in the next act, “Jade, keep it up. Kelly, sell the ghost,” and then she was off to different pairs of actors to give them notes.

Act two was more challenging in terms of blocking, and so it required more of Jade’s focus. She had always been a little uncoordinated, and there was a very real possibility that she would trip during one of the scenes where she was supposed to be running away. And she did, though it was barely noticeable and happened just two steps before she was offstage. She mentally kicked herself before going back out, and didn’t trip again for the rest of the performance. 

Jade didn’t think it was possible to feel any lighter, but the roar of almost 700 people applauding brought her right off her feet. She floated offstage, with a smile that felt like it would never leave her, and the only thing that sobered her was the realization that she was going to feel this way tomorrow night, too. Laurie gave them all notes on that night’s performance, Jade’s trip did not go unnoticed by the director’s discerning eye. The notes took about fifteen minutes, during which Jade was able to store her excitement and focus. Tonight was good, tomorrow could be better. 

She bounced into the theatre lobby, arms linked with Kelly and still too excited to shrug off the other girl. 

The first person she saw was her mother, waiting for her on one of the cushioned benches, Matt sitting beside her holding a wrapped box. That feeling of exhilaration rushed back to her as she bounded over to them, finally shaking Kelly off.

“Sweetie that was amazing!” her mother stood up the moment she saw Jade running over, and wrapped her into a tight hug, “seriously,” she stood back to look at her daughter, still holding her, “I think I cried a little.” 

That was all the validation she needed. Matt came up and wrapped an arm around her mother, “oh she definitely cried- a lot. Good work kid,” he handed her the box and smoothed his hand over her hair. 

She let them fuss over her, still floating from all the excitement of the night. They showered her with compliments, and twice her mother mentioned that she’d never seen Jade this happy. 

Which was probably true, and if she had to write another stupid journal entry at school about her “happiest memory” she could write about this moment. Her cheeks were starting to hurt, but she couldn’t stop smiling, and she was partially worried that any change might shatter the moment of unadulterated content. She didn’t even open the present Matt haad given her, still riding the high of performing, soaking up the attention from her mother and her- and her mother’s boyfriend. 

Because Matt wasn’t her dad, and now that she’d thought about it, she realized she shouldn’t be feeling this happy in a moment that wasn’t complete. She hadn’t noticed her father’s absence before then, and it deflated her just enough that her cheeks got a break from smiling. No, she wasn’t devastated; she’d been careful not to be too hopeful about this. Still, she was annoyed by the reality that she couldn't enjoy the success the way she wanted to. 

Her mother must have noticed, because she shifted her own expression to match her daughter’s new subdued state, “hey, Owen’s at Susan and Karl’s all night,” Matt’s sister and her husband. They were watching Owen so that Matt and Ellen could attend the play without hiring a sitter, “I was thinking we could go to a dessert place. It’s a little grown up, but we should celebrate!” 

Dessert sounded nice. And her mother was right, they should be celebrating, so she nodded a “Let me use the restroom” she handed the unopened box back to Matt, “ I’ll open it later.”

Her trip to the restroom was twofold. She really did have to go, she’d downed three water bottles over the course of the evening, and hadn’t had a long enough break since before the show started; but it also gave her enough time to shake off whatever stupid emotion that was stopping her from completely enjoying the evening. So her dad didn’t come, so what? She’d known it was stupid to hope for, and she’d never really gotten past the point of passive wishing. It would have been nice if he was here, but it didn’t actually matter. 

For a moment, she couldn’t comprehend the sight of her father in the theatre lobby, holding a bouquet of white and purple flowers. He was standing next to her mother, and from what she could tell they weren’t fighting, but it only barely passed as civil conversation.

It was confirmation of a hope she wasn’t sure she was allowed to have, and yet, it was coming together anyway. She walked towards him, tentative, as if the movement might shatter the swell of optimism she didn’t think anyone should have the right to feel, but she reached him and he was still there.

“It’s traditional, I think,” he said, as he handed her the bouquet.

Jade stared at the flowers, which she didn’t like. He was right, it was tradition, but tradition was stupid. It didn’t matter though, exactly one thing mattered, and it was the fact that he’d come at all. The flowers, his stiffness, her mother’s new tension, none of that was important. She looked up at him, and the brief moment of uncertainty was gone. 

She really hadn’t expected him to come, and she wished it didn’t mean as much to her as it did, “you came.”

He nodded, “I was able to reschedule a meeting.”

She wasn’t sure she was ready to express how happy she was that he’d come. Actually, when she thought about it, she wasn’t sure she was ready to admit it at all. Mostly, she just had incomplete flashes of thoughts where she could only identify that she wanted to spend more time with him. That she was ready to have him be a part of her life, and that she wanted whatever awkward and traditional father-daughter relationship that he was apparently trying to create. 

She pulled the bouquet closer to her, breathing in the scent of all the different flowers. Somehow, that made the gift worse as it gave her a slight headache, so instead, she just looked at the petals. Yep, flowers were dumb and tradition was stupid. But he was here, and he was trying, “thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” he looked between Jade and her mother, who had been quiet this whole time. His glance settled on Jade, “I’ll see you in a week,” and he walked away.

The dessert was exceptional. Jade didn’t know that people could make pastries that weren’t sickeningly sweet, but she revelled in the discovery. She was vaguely aware that, due to her restored sense of elation, everything was better than it usually would be. But she put that thought on hold to let herself enjoy the night.

The flowers lay across her lap; she’d refused to leave them behind in the car. Carrying them was proof that her dad had shown up. They were a constant reminder that she was free to feel however excited she wanted, and she was smiling again so much it hurt.

She was allowed to feel happy, now. There wasn’t a glaring issue that needed to be addressed, there was no missing part that she had to feel grief or guilt for. It was a burdenless excitement, and she didn’t trust it, but she was starting to think that maybe she could. 

“I want to spend the night at dad’s next week.” 

Her mother’s smile faltered, but she covered it as quickly as she could, “Sweetie, are you sure?” 

Jade didn’t need to think it through any more than she already had. She’d dedicated hours to this very question, and she knew it was going to happen eventually, so why not now? 

“Yes.” 

“We’ll talk about it.”

And she supposed that was about as good a reaction as she could expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> -Trashdove


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit longer than the other ones, and it took me a long time to feel okay about it. I'm still not sure I'm 100% with it, but it's here and I'm mostly happy with it. Lemme know what you think!!

Between her performances and schoolwork, there wasn’t a lot of time left to discuss spending the weekend with her father. So as far as she knew, it would be happening. But on Wednesday, when she mentioned it on the drive home from another performance, her mother seemed to think it was still under debate. 

“I’m a little worried it’s too soon.”

“You said we would talk about it,” Jade insisted, not willing to give this up just yet. Her father was showing interest, but she wasn’t sure how long that would last. Better to get in there now before anything happened to quell his effort. 

“You’ve only had two afternoons with him, and I don’t feel-” 

“-you’re just scared I’ll like him more,” she said it to herself, but it was just loud enough that her mother heard it. 

“No, actually, I’m just trying to look out for my daughter. Believe it or not,” her mother’s response came in the form of an exasperated sigh. 

Jade scoffed, it felt like the right thing to do, “not.”

She pressed her face against the window and counted the streetlights. One, two, she let her eyes follow them for a little while they drove but always looking forward again to catch the next one. Thirteen, fourteen fifteen, she blinked a little longer than she’d intended. When she opened her eyes, she realised she’d lost track. One, two, three, but she was having a hard time staying awake. It was her fifth consecutive night performing, and she was running out of energy, and eventually, her eyes stayed closed. 

When she woke up, she was tucked in bed, which severely undermined the authority she was trying to gain. Thankfully, she was still in her clothes from the day, no one tried to put her in PJ’s. She had long ago decided than no one would ever see her in the sickening bunny pyjamas her grandmother had given her over Christmas. No. 

Those would have to stay in her closet while she went upstairs one last time. If her mother unsuspectedly saw her in her bunny pants, she might have to commit a crime. But she did want to feel comfier. 

She fumbled for her favourite sweater, a hoodie from film camp. Her mom bought all her clothes, but over the summer, Jade had been allowed to choose the colour and size for her camp hoodie. At the time, not one thing in her closet was black, and she saw her opportunity to fix that.

The cuffs fell past her fingers: she’d ordered it larger, hoping she’d be able to grow into it. But that was taking a long time, apparently. Still frustrated that she wasn’t growing, Jade rolled back the sleeves, so they wouldn’t get in her way. 

The hallways on the main floor had a few night lights plugged into the outlets, just enough that she could see her way to the kitchen and find a glass for water. The clock on the oven told her it was just past eleven, so she hadn’t been asleep for much more than an hour. Later nights were becoming habitual when she was on stage until 9 every night. Then the debriefing notes, usually she didn’t leave the theatre until half-past; sometimes later.

Squeezing eight performances into seven days was hard enough but she had to factor in school as well. She did homework at recess or during cast warm-ups, but often it was left to the side completely untouched. It was easy to pass it off at school with a quick lie about forgetting it at home, which was such a harmless infraction that it was met with annoyance rather than punishment. She had a small pile of take-home sheets on her desk downstairs that she’d been lying about since Friday. 

The initial excitement from opening night was ebbing away, albeit slowly. It was starting to become all very routine, and something about that was exhausting. She still felt at home on stage, it still gave her a rush of adrenaline, but it was starting to be all too predictable. Tomorrow she would struggle to stay awake all day during school, hastily completing a homework assignment at recess. Then Matt would pick her up and they’d come back to the house for a snack and more homework, they’d leave. She’d get to the theatre where Kelly would try to mistake a simple hug for an act of lifelong friendship- which she had been doing since opening night- and then at seven, the curtains would open. She’d be awake for 18 hours, and she’d get to enjoy 2 of them. Which was more than usual, so she tried not to be bitter about it.

Sometimes, she wondered if ten was too young for her to be bitter, or if her classmates were just too stupid to get it yet. Idiots. One day, they would figure it out like it was a big revelation, but Jade already knew it: power and control were the only things that made anyone safe. And kids don’t have either. They didn’t get that it was possible to be tougher than whatever life throws at you, that as long as you were in charge you could save or destroy the world at the touch of a button. 

Right now, her control was in orchestrating a peaceful custody arrangement between her parents. That’s how she was able to make sure she could stay safe, but her mother was getting in the way of all the decisions she still had to make. The ideal agreement would have half her time with her mother and half her time with her dad, that’s where this had to go if there was a chance of keeping it out of court. Jade had identified a weekend with her father as the next move, but her mother was holding her back. 

She pressed her hand into her throbbing temple. It was easy to get worked up when she let herself get lost in thought, easy to focus on the problems and lose sight of a solution. But hard to ignore the dull thudding of her new headache, she let out a quiet, frustrated groan, and found she was now completely awake. There was no way she could go back to sleep, even if she tried, so she slipped on her shoes and left the house. 

The night air was colder than it had been recently, and Jade was glad for her hoodie. She pulled down her sleeves so they hung off her fingers. A ghost. 

It might be interesting to be a ghost. She could be the ghost of this neighbourhood, haunt Mr Pak’s house because he gave her a C on her last quiz. He lived one street over. Haunting the suburbs of LA could be an interesting job to have for eternity. She entertained the idea as she weaved through the familiar streets, not paying attention to time or direction. 

Eventually, she found herself at the river, new graffiti on the concrete channel. Her mother used to bring her to the river on weekends when her dad was too drunk to join them. They’d pick up cupcakes at this little place on Glendale, walk to the river and sit as close to the water as possible. 

Jade kicked at the ground causing several pebbles to bounce across the pavement. She used to throw rocks at the water, hoping to somehow damage it so she could see how broken things still worked, even though water doesn’t work like that. 

Despite knowing it wouldn’t have any real effect, she picked up one of the pebbles and tossed it over into the channel. It didn’t even reach the water. Throwing pebbles didn’t help as a seven-year-old, and it didn’t help now. Disappointing, but only a little. Whatever, “stupid idea, anyway,” she muttered to herself, shoving her hands into the pocket on her sweater. 

It was late, so she started making her way home again. Not on a direct path, but always headed in the right direction. The noise from the freeway picked up, and she could tell she was getting close. Riverside ran parallel to the freeway, and it acted as a sort of touchstone for Jade when she went out by herself. From there, she could find her way home.

A gas station caught her attention, or more accurately the convenience store. Smaller than the 711, and quite probably better lit. Or at least, it seemed that way from the buzzing of fluorescents. 

She was in and out in 5 minutes. 

The walk home was spent nibbling on the chocolate bar she’d stowed away in the sleeve of her sweater. She knew she shouldn’t make a habit out of stealing, but it was still new and the thrill of walking out of the store was just as strong as it was the first time. It was like an extra little boost of energy, which she didn’t necessarily need, but it felt good. 

Jade didn’t need the chocolate either. In fact, she didn’t even finish it. She dumped half of it in the trash can at a bus stop. She hadn’t really wanted the candy: she hated chocolate. No, what she wanted was to be able to take something. Without asking or paying. Without getting caught. 

And now that she had, she started thinking about how she would get what she actually wanted: the weekend with her dad. She’d been thinking about it since she spoke it into existence not quite a week ago, and the more time that passed the more she regretted it. Paradoxically, this only made her want it more. She wanted to be proven wrong. She wanted her mother to be proven wrong. 

She wanted to believe her father was a good person, who loved her and just...made a mistake. A big mistake; one she would always hate him for, but not something that defined him or how much he loved her (if at all). 

The chocolate bar, now discarded, had been hers the moment she decided she wanted it. 

Everything should be that easy. 

On Thursday, Jade tried to talk about the logistics of the weekend with her father. As far as she was concerned, the best course of action was to just blindly assume it was going to happen so she could have enough time to think about it. 

So, she tried to talk about pick up times and locations, tried to talk about how it was going to work with closing night being on Saturday. If anything, this was just serving as proof that she had made the decision too hastily, there were small details that she’d forgotten about at the time, but were now making the plan very difficult. 

But it didn’t matter anyway, because Jade’s mother didn’t want to talk about logistics or details. She wanted to talk about feelings. Which was borderline infuriating.

Jade didn’t “do” feelings. If she did, there’s no way she’d be seeing her dad at all right now because she would have outright refused to see him. Then everyone would be fighting. And she’d still have whatever feelings she had now; so really there was no point in using them to make a decision or have a conversation. 

Her mother begged to differ, “I feel like you’re jumping into this...just tell me what’s going on?” 

“Nothing!” she insisted for what had to be the millionth time that evening, her fists curling in frustration. 

The conversation continued to escalate until Jade was yelling to be heard, “why don’t you trust me?” 

“I don’t trust HIM,” her mother was also yelling from the emotional exhaustion of this whole argument.

“Trusted him enough for free daycare.”

“Look, I am sorry about that. But my answer is still no.” 

Jade couldn’t keep track of her words after that, or her mothers either. All she knew for sure was her mother was on the verge of tears, and if she kept pushing, she could win this fight. So she did, she screamed and cursed and raked out every single one of her mother’s insecurities (the ones she knew about), until… 

“You know what, fine! Go to your dad’s. I can’t do this right now,” there was a quiver in her voice, and a few tears spilled off her eyelashes to roll down her cheeks. 

Jade knew the fight was over, and more importantly, that she’d won. 

Victory felt better in her favourite bunny jammies. 

***  
The drive to the theatre on closing night was awkward, her mother barely spoke the entire way there. On Friday morning, the two spoke briefly about their “conversation” (because Ellen didn’t like the word “argument”). She apologized for yelling, but Jade didn’t. 

A small duffle bag lay across the seat beside her. After the show, she was going to her father’s. She didn’t think she should apologize for winning. In fact, she didn’t think her mother should apologize either. Made her weak. 

They pulled up to the sidewalk, but before Jade could open the door and dash away, her mother stopped her to remind her about the backup plan. 

Which Jade didn’t think they even needed. 

Since her mother would be in the audience, she could of course just take Jade back to the house if Cliff was late or if Jade changed her mind.

But the backup plan was stupid, for one simple reason, “I don’t want you here tonight.” 

“I-”

“-Just stay home,” Jade wasn’t sure how many fights she could keep winning, but she did not want her mother in the audience, “you’ve seen it like, every night.”

“You’re my daughter. Of course, I’ll be there tonight.” 

“No,” and she decided that was her last word. She grabbed her bag and left the car, slamming the door for good measure. Still fresh from her most recent victory, Jade thought she could get away with anything. 

If possible, it came together even better once the curtain opened. It was the performance of her life, she could tell. Something about how her lines were landing, how even her castmates seemed surprised sometimes. This was it, this was what she was meant to do, and it didn’t matter how tired she was, or that she hadn’t done her homework in a week. She was more sure now than ever: this was what she was good at, it's what she liked, and it’s what she wanted to do. Forever. 

Laurie didn’t give them notes since it was their last night. Instead, she thanked them all for their hard work. It was strange for Jade to think that she wouldn’t be seeing any of these people again, even though she didn’t like most of them. As if to show her she wouldn’t miss them, the stage manager led them in a round of “self-applause”, and Jade was glad to see Laurie rolling her eyes as well. 

She might miss Laurie. 

The lobby would have been packed a half-hour ago, but most of the audience had gone by now. It was easy to see him standing against the opposite wall, talking into his cellphone. He hadn’t noticed her yet, but she didn’t care. She had to stop herself from running, but even as she walked right up to him, he stayed on the phone.

“Figure it out, it’s a more than generous deadline,” he still wasn’t looking at her, but she could tell it wasn’t intentional. He just hadn’t noticed her, and that was fine because she was still getting over the fact that he kept showing up when he said he would; she didn’t realize that set the bar too low. 

His whole body moved with the force of his sigh while the person on the other end of the phone kept talking. He pinched the bridge of his nose and when he lowered his hand he finally saw his daughter there, waiting for him.

Jade had been trying her best to be patient the whole time, but when he finally saw her, she just smiled at him expectantly. 

He held up a finger, and looked away again at his phone, “then call Smith,” he said with a force that made Jade think that he was probably a very scary boss. Good. She didn’t want another doormat parent, that’s what her mother was for. 

She stayed perfectly still while she watched him, waiting for him to notice her again, or better yet, tell her what an amazing job she’d done tonight. Because she knew she had, what she did on stage, that was magic. At least, it felt like it, and she wanted to know that he’d been a part of it too. That he saw it and recognised her talent. 

She waited for a long time. Eventually, she was tired from standing, and she moved to sit on the bench next to him. It was comfortable, especially when she crossed her legs and rested her head in her palms. 

He droned on, but she’d stopped paying attention. Whatever it was, it wasn’t interesting. Her knee started bouncing involuntarily, half from boredom half to stay awake while the exhaustion started settling in her bones. 

An hour later, he hung up and Jade was fighting to stay awake, “You good to go?” he asked her. 

Yeah. An hour ago. She forced herself off the comfy bench and bit back her remark. 

If it was her mother, she would have said it. Then they’d fight about it the entire drive home, and maybe even after. She knew all her mother’s pressure points, the things to say that brought her to the verge of tears, how to rile her up. It made fights predictable. Almost boring. 

But she didn’t know much about her dad yet, and she didn’t think she should be showing him that side of her so soon,“uh-huh,” she nodded then waited. Ideally, he would fill the silence with a compliment about her performance, but even acknowledgement at this point would be good enough. 

But he just stood there, so she prompted him, “my performance?” Because she knew it was the best thing she’d done, maybe ever. 

“I didn’t see it.” 

Oh. 

“I didn’t know I was supposed to come again after last weekend,” and for a moment Jade thought he was working up to an apology.

But she shook her head to stop him before he got there, “it’s fine,” but she said it maybe more forcefully than she meant to. It wasn’t too late to pretend that she didn’t actually care, she hadn’t spoken it out loud yet. So she tried to convince herself it was a minor transgression.

But with a twinge of regret, she remembered telling her mother not to come, and she wondered if no one saw her own the stage tonight. The thought crushed her, that all that work was for 600+ strangers and no one else. Not that she wanted her mother there, but, if that’s all she had…

The drive was silent, but she was glad. After being ignored for over an hour, the energy from performing had completely worn off, and she was now feeling the effect of 8 shows in seven days. 

They pulled into the condo at ten, and she was just awake enough to think to grab a glass of water for the night. She knew her way around the kitchen fairly well, but her dad stepped in to remind her where the cups were. 

An unopened package on the counter caught her eye, but she was too tired to ask about it. Maybe tomorrow. 

She hit the mattress at ten past. It was firm, not like the one at her mother’s, and somehow it was perfect. It was the fastest she’d ever fallen asleep. 

It was very bright, and Jade wasn't used to it. In the basement, she only had the one window, and the amount of light that could filter through was limited; but with the windows and sliding glass door, the rising sun was pouring into her room. She blinked a few times and groaned as if that would stop the day, pulling the covers over her head to try and catch as much darkness as she could. 

But then she couldn’t fall asleep. Curious, she poked her head from under the covers to check the clock on her wall. Just seeing the timepiece elevated her mood, it was her favourite thing in the room; even more than any of her six throw pillows.

No matter when she’d gone to sleep the night before, no matter how tired she was, she was always awake at seven, and with a groan, she read that it was ten to. The infernal sunrise had woken her ten minutes early, there was no point going back to sleep. 

Weekday mornings were usually chaotic, everyone up at the same time coming in and out of the kitchen for coffee and breakfast. Owen crying or giggling while her mother tried to feed him applesauce. 

It was gross. 

But on the weekends, she usually had about an hour to herself in the morning. It was cherished, and she spent it working in her notebook or reading, sometimes just thinking. 

She wasn’t sure what to expect at her dad’s yet, but she knew she wasn’t willing to give up her hour of alone time, so she grabbed her notebook from the half open duffle bag and sat down at the desk. 

The last 7 pages were full of notes she’d taken on her performances, and her next entry was no different. She started off by listing all the details that she could still remember, all the good things. In her previous entries, she would also list all of the things that went wrong, right down to whether the lights were hitting her right. But last night was her last performance, and she didn’t want to force herself to find something bad about it, especially when she wouldn’t get a chance to fix it. Instead, she took the win. 

When she realized she was hungry (at about 8, right on time) she left for the kitchen, still not sure what weekends at her dad’s would look like. He might still be asleep, so she was sure that her footfalls were quiet as she walked down the hall. 

The door to the second bedroom, his home office, stood ajar, and she could hear a faint clicking of keys and a rustling of paper. She leaned against the doorframe and knocked once, “hey.” 

“You’re up?” he searched around his desk, semi-frantically, finally stopping when he grabbed a small desk clock, “Hmm,” then he turned back to his computer, “I’m here for another hour, feel free to raid the cupboards.” 

It’s not that she needed him to make breakfast, because she certainly didn’t. It’s just that she was used to her mother and Matt and their Sunday pancake shenanigans. She’d be forced to eat with them around the table with Owen, who could now eat tiny pieces of pancake. 

She wondered if they were still doing that today. Probably. 

It was pretty easy to locate cereal, and it wasn’t exciting but it counted as breakfast. More challenging was finding a bowl, a task that she abandoned when she saw the unopened package from the night before. It was addressed to her father, which made sense, but she wanted to know what it was. 

“Dad?” she shouted, “What’s in the box?” 

The condo wasn’t big enough for him to pretend he hadn’t heard her, but he didn’t call back, so she picked up the package and brought it to his office. It was lighter than she’d expected, considering its size, “what is this?” 

He looked at her, and cast his eyes down at the box in question, “Oh, that’s for my work office. You can open it, but it’s delicate so be careful,” and he turned his attention back to his previous task. 

That was all the permission she needed. Breakfast now forgotten; she brought the box into the living room and set it on the couch, leaving it there to retrieve a pair of kitchen scissors. 

It was mostly full of packing peanuts, which she sifted through until she felt a hard, smooth frame. Glass. Heading her father’s warning, she was careful when she took it out. 

It was a beetle. Larger than the ones she’d had to throw out when she smashed their jar; she eyeballed it, trying to guess… 2 and a half inches? Yeah, about that. It was pretty, with a shiny green shell and long elegant antennae and impressive mandibles.

She was careful not to get fingerprints on the glass as she inspected it. She liked it, it was pretty, kinda creepy, and definitely real which meant it was also dead. The trifecta. Once it was back in its box, and she was sure it was past nine, she went to get her dad again. 

“I didn’t know you liked bugs,” she said, but wanted to add more, “I have a few butterflies in my room...nothing cool like that though.” It was one thing they could maybe talk about. 

“I have a small collection in my office. Interesting creatures. That one’s from Colombia.” 

“Can I have it?” 

“No,” he started moving papers across his desk, putting things into files, “Tell you what. I have to stop by the office, you can pick out one from there. Any one you like.” 

“Really?” 

“Sure. I’ve been collecting for the past few years. I’ve got lots.” 

It was maybe the coolest thing she’d ever heard him say. She could not believe that out of everything she could have in common with him, it would this. Somehow that made it even better. That they were connecting over something that none of her peers would understand if she asked them, that even her own mother was worried about (there had been a long conversation when Jade came home with a jar of beetles three years ago). 

But not only did her dad think it was cool, he actually collected them! Tiny little cool dead things and she got to pick one!

Was she the luckiest kid alive? Because she sure felt that way as she and her dad pulled into the parking lot of a very tall, very pretty building. They rode the elevator up to the twentieth floor, finally stepping out into a large lobby with several hallways coming off it.

She followed him as he opened one of the doors with a key card. It was the weekend, so no one was there, but she could imagine what it must look like when full of other very important people dressed in very important suits. 

His was not the corner office, but it was still very large and, unlike his home office, it was impeccably organized. He walked over to the mahogany filing cabinets on the far wall, turning a key to open them, “Take your pick, I have to file these.” 

There were about a dozen specimens in the room. Some on the wall, others in class cases in bookshelves or on his desk. Jade took her time browsing, there had to be one here that would make him think she had good taste too. 

But all thoughts of him were driven out when she saw the giant beetle beside the Encyclopedias. 

Because that beetle was perfect, and it didn’t matter what anyone thought. It was going to be hers. 

It was larger than her hand, just shy of 5 inches. All black. Shiny. A long horn stretched out of its head, and Jade thought it was beautiful. The trifecta: pretty, creepy, dead. She brushed her fingers across the glass case so lightly she could barely feel it, “I like this one.” 

He turned from his filing to look at her, “That’s a good one,” and even though she wasn’t looking for his approval, she was glad to have it. 

Jade watched him as he crossed the room and picked it off the bookshelf, “do you know anything about it?” 

She knew she loved it. But nothing else, “no.” 

She could have sworn she heard him tsk, “It’s a Neptune Beetle. Male. Also from Columbia,” he handed her the box and she took it so carefully so she’d never drop it, “they’re fairly pricey, actually.” 

But she stopped listening and looked at her new beetle. His name was Dexter, and he was amazing. She now owned the coolest thing. If she wanted to, she could make other kids jealous. 

Or scared. 

A win either way. 

She let her dad talk her through all the other specimens. The moths (one was bigger than her dad’s hands), the other beetles, she could tell he was enjoying this. And she was too. 

After seeing Dexter, all the other bugs became irrelevant, and she didn’t really care what her dad was saying. But she liked it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> -Trashdove


	17. Chapter 17

Jade could hardly believe her luck, but it turned out that existing between two separated people was actually not impossible. 

After her first night with her father, Jade had a long “conversation” with her mother about seeing more of him. There were several “conversations” before Ellen finally relented and decided that Jade could spend every second weekend at the condo in Beverly Hills. 

The two households were very different, and ultimately, Jade found it was easier to exist at her dad’s place.

At her mother’s, days were overly-structured and weekends were defined by relentlessly enforced “family time” where Jade would have to spend her time playing a board game or watching a movie she could not care less about. Unfortunately, the more she protested family time, the harder her mother fought her over it, and it was usually just easier to bite the bullet and get it over with. 

Her dad left her to her own devices, and when she spent weekends with him, Jade was overwhelmed with an unprecedented amount of alone time. She could read, listen to music, watch whatever she wanted on T.V, write or draw for hours on end before any interruption. It was pure bliss. 

Family time was bad enough on its own, but when coupled with the expectation of open, detailed conversation, it was even worse. Jade hated when her mother used Clue as an excuse to talk to her about her lack of friends; a topic that was surfacing more and more. 

“Don’t you think you’d be happier with someone to play with? Talk to?” her mother was fairly adamant about the fact that Jade’s life would only be improved with friendship.

“No.” 

“It’s concerning, sweetie, that you don’t-”

“-Ms. Peacock, in the library, with a lead pipe,” Jade put in her accusation. Of all the games, Clue was the one she hated the least so she wasn’t willing to let a perfectly good murder be sullied by another discussion trying to get to the bottom of her friendless-ness. 

“Violent,” Matt interjected with a smile. 

Jade shrugged, “she had a lot of rage.” 

“Relationship to the victim?” 

This was a side-game she and Matt would play. Where, after the murder was solved, Jade would come up with a motive, the relationship between murder and victim, and the victim’s last words. But before she could start explaining the nuance of Ms Peacock's espionage, her mother cut in again, “Matt, a little help, please?”

“Your mom’s right, kid,” he said, not needing to be asked twice, “everyone needs friends.” 

“I don’t,” and she didn’t. 

When she saw her dad that weekend, she asked him if he thought it was weird that she didn’t have friends. 

“Not really.”

So that settled that. 

She did make an effort to talk to the boy who sat next to her, but he only seemed qualified to talk about soccer or video games. Very hard to find other ten-year-olds that wanted to talk about the evolution of special effects in the world of cinematic horror.

Jade was, at this point in her life, fairly certain she wasn’t built to be around other people. There were too many aspects of her personality that were off-putting, but that she was too stubborn to fix. She was inflexible with her interests, and not willing to talk about video games with the stupid boy next to her just so she could tell her mother she made a friend. 

Monster bait never had a problem. Jade looked for her across the playground, making sure that Emily was still as alone as she was. It took a few minutes to find her, but she did. The blonde was, indeed, by herself.

Good. 

Emily had quite a few bad recesses in May and June, but Jade calmed down for the last two weeks of school.

Fighting still happened, but only at her mother’s house: that’s where she knew how to win. All she had to do was act cold, distant. Ignore her for a little bit, dismiss her concerns, that kind of thing. Then wait until she’d start yelling: if her mother started yelling, Jade would win the fight. Because then it was only a matter of being meaner. 

It didn’t happen a lot, but she always won. 

She didn’t trust her dad to still want her, not yet, so she didn’t even learn what his buttons were. It helped that she had no idea what mistake was going to blow everything up because this time she wouldn’t be able to blame her mom. So, she didn’t get angry at him. Mostly, it was pretty easy; kind of like acting, but without any of the satisfaction. 

Sometimes it was hard: twice, he’d completely dismissed her when she’d asked if they could see a play. Once when he picked her up from acting, he’d suggested she should “pick something else.” That was hard, and she almost lost it. But she kept it together until her mother came to pick her up. 

Sometime in June, just after school ended with a small ceremony, there was a fight about where she would be going to school in the fall. 

It was so rare for her parents to be in the same room, but of course, they both showed up to her fifth-grade graduation. They were quiet during the ceremony but argued for the rest of the evening as long as they could see each other. 

“I could pay tuition at Westbay. She should have a quality education.”

“She’ll be just fine at South-”

“-There’s “fine”, Ellen, and then there’s the last report card,” it was the first time she’d needed two copies, and they came out a few days ago. It was her best one yet, lowest grade a B- in gym. Best grade, an A in art. B+ was the average, and her mother had been really excited. Her father, however, looked at it once, handed it back, and said: “they make A plusses, you know,” then when she gaped silently, he added, “and a B minus is unacceptable.”

“You are not going to drop thousands of dollars on tuition to a school she doesn’t need just so you look like a hero.” 

It was settled that she’d be attending the one in Burbank, much to her father’s chagrin. 

He got the upper hand though when he invited her to New York for the same week she was scheduled to be at her grandmother’s in Oregon. Who wouldn’t choose New York? 

When they parted at the airport, Jade could tell her mother was reluctant to let her go. “Have fun with your dad, sweetie,” she said, still holding on to her daughter, “we’ll see about going up again, maybe at the end of August.”

“Sure,” though it was evident that she didn’t care. Her father was standing a few feet away with their luggage, staring at the ceiling and tapping his foot. She was eager, too. 

“I’ll miss you,” her mother kept a hand on the back of Jade’s head as they broke the hug.

She smiled at her mom, “you too,” but then sped off to go get checked in with her dad.

New York was amazing. They spent the week touring museums, eating at fancy restaurants, and he surprised her one night with tickets to see Wicked at the Gershwin. It blew her mind. She had no idea that a professional show would look and sound so good. 

Jade talked about it the entire walk back to their hotel. He didn’t even stop her. She droned on about the songs, which had to be near impossible to sing, and the staging, the costumes, just everything that was still buzzing in her brain. 

It took most of the walk for her to calm down again, but when she was no longer thinking faster than she could talk, she remembered to thank him. “Thank you. Really.” 

“I thought it might make you happy,” and he was very smug about it, but he was also pretty close to smiling. 

The great gift war of ‘06 started on her eleventh birthday. Her mother got her a large book of short stories about the paranormal, her dad got her a nice collection of moths. 

Then her mother let her pick her own outfit, “for your first day of school” and bought the entire thing. So her dad got her a full new wardrobe. 

She knew exactly what they were doing, but she didn’t care. And even better, she knew how to play them.

“There’s these nice earrings I want, but mom still won’t let me get pierced,” there were no earrings. She’d been begging to get her ears pierced since she was seven, and she finally had a parent who wasn’t going to say no. 

Jade thought there would be a fight about it, but there wasn’t. Instead, her mom bought her a keyboard for her room. Jade spent hours sitting in front of it, trying to learn but not knowing where to start. Often she’d end up just playing around with the different notes, trying to find the combinations she liked and then playing them again. She didn’t learn any songs. 

But then her dad got her a PearPod, and Jade knew her mother couldn’t do better than that. So, she didn’t even mention it, she kept the device hidden in her pocket until she was alone. She didn’t need to make her mother feel inadequate.

Slowly, she started spending more time with her dad. A weekend would turn into a few extra days, or some nights she’d just call him and ask if she could stay with him instead. By the end of the summer, she was exactly half and half, one week at a time. 

Which was exactly how she’d planned to start Middle School, it was written in her notebook. 

Step one: figure out a shared custody situation. This was the one she’d been most worried about, and for a few weeks at the end of June, Jade wasn’t sure if she’d ever get to spend more than one night at the condo. But he’d been in LA for six months now, and Jade’s mother was finally becoming less intense with her interrogations. 

Step two: get better grades. Her last report card was the best one she’d brought home. It wasn’t good enough for her dad, though. They’d had exactly two conversations about it. The first, when she brought it home and he told her it was unacceptable. The second, four weeks later. He’d been so icy when he spoke, telling her that if she hoped to maintain a positive relationship with him, she should focus on applying herself more academically, “do I make myself clear?” She’d nodded, “good. Let’s not have this discussion again.” 

Step three: make friends. Jade knew she could get better grades, so she wasn’t worried about that. A little extra effort in Gym (awful) and Science (boring), and she’d probably be a straight-A student. Friends could be hard though. The school was bound to be full of familiar faces, kids that she’d known since first grade, and somehow that made it worse. She had no idea how to start a conversation with someone her age, let alone the kids she’d been ignoring for the past five years. What? Was she supposed to just walk up to Lisa and ask about her summer like that was a conversation worth having? Lisa? Who was smart enough to be scared of Jade? No way that was happening. 

So, when the whole school got Friday afternoon out to explore the club fair in the gym, she made sure to sign up for Drama Club. Her mom would be excited about it, anyway. The boy sitting behind the signup sheet didn’t entice her to join...but he certainly wasn’t a deterrent. 

After her first week of middle school, even though she would never admit it, Jade was feeling optimistic. 

***  
It was Saturday and her mother and Matt were busy in the kitchen.

It was a still new tradition that started in June, just after she brought home her report card. Matt had wanted to celebrate, and so Pancake shenanigans were born. It was weekly now, though usually, it was a Sunday morning event.

But Jade was going to be spending the next week with her dad, he’d be picking her up at one. So Sunday morning wouldn’t work. She was already packed, waiting to tell him about her first week at school, she was sure he’d be interested. 

There was an explosion of laughter in the kitchen, that was loud enough to be heard over the music. Last Sunday her mother had chosen so it was all top 40, and Jade had “Chasing Cars” stuck in her head all week. This week though, Matt was in charge of music, so it was all old bands from the ’70s. 

The laugh had caught Owen’s attention, too, and he was now bouncing from his playpen across from her. He could talk now, sort of, and as he was bouncing, he started calling for Matt, “da.” Without a second thought, Jade walked over to him and lifted him out of the playpen. 

He was extremely wiggly in her embrace, but she was able to bring him into the kitchen. “Da,” he repeated, and she put him down so he could waddle over to Matt. 

“Buddy!” he swooped down to pick up Owen and blew raspberries into his cheek. Matt started bouncing along to the music, taking Owen on a dance around the room. “Nice of you to join us, kid,” he addressed her. 

“We thought you’d still be downstairs,” her mother was manning the griddle, a smudge of flour on her nose. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine,” which was true because she’d been able to dream about Dexter. Dexter had to stay at her dad’s because he was too delicate and expensive to transport, but she missed him all the time. 

“Uhm- Ellen, hate to be a buzzkill,” Matt was still bouncing with Owen in his arms, “but you said you’d dance the whole time. You lost a bet.” 

“Oh my god,” she said flatly. But she smiled, relented, and started swaying her hips.

“Come on kid, family dance time!” Jade rolled her eyes, and if anyone else was around she wouldn’t have done it. But she joined in, even sang along when it switched to a song she liked. 

Matt passed Owen off when it was time to set the table, “get you to your big sister, eh little buddy?”

“Jay!”

“Close enough,” Jade took him into her arms and kept bouncing him along to the beat. “You kinda suck at talking, know that, loser?”

He made a series of noises, some of which vaguely sounded like her name again, but hard to tell. 

“Yeah,” and she put him down, holding his hands so he could walk without falling. She would die before anyone found out that she loved being ‘Jay’. “Not very good at walking either. Someone could trip you,” she pulled him up to swing him lightly, “gotta toughen up,” she sat him down in his high chair and gave him the smallest playful shove. He moved about an inch.

Matt took pancakes seriously. There were always several toppings to choose from, but Jade didn’t like the mess, she took her pancakes plain with syrup on the side. 

Owen, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to mess as he smeared torn up pancakes around the table in his high chair. 

Acting classes didn’t start until the end of the month, so there was nothing to do after breakfast except kill time. Since there was no homework yet, Jade took the opportunity to read one of the stories from her paranormal collection. 

It was a volume designed for children, so all the stories were age-appropriate and not too scary, she wondered if maybe one of her classmates would be interested. It could be a way to start a conversation, maybe. But soon she was pulled into the pages of her collection, as she read a story about the ghost of a Victorian man that haunts a graveyard in Boston. All thoughts of school were gone. 

She read two more stories while waiting for her dad, though she hadn’t meant to. One was about witches in Salem and the other a Vampire hunter in Saxony.

Her father wasn’t a great listener, but he let her use the first half of the drive to give him detailed summaries about what she’d read. Sometimes, he’d nod or grunt when she’d relay an exciting plot point but most of the time it was like talking to a wall; so she decided not to tell him about the Vampire and settled against the window. 

Jade adjusted to the silence and briefly considered pulling out her PearPod just for the drive, but then he asked what she’d been expecting: “how was school this week?”

“Fine I guess,” and she knew he wouldn’t make her say anything more than that, but she kept talking anyway, “Mostly just getting to know everyone. First-week stuff,” she supposed there were actually people out there who enjoyed it, she just wasn’t one of them. 

“Ah. No homework then?”

“No,” they’d barely even started classes. They were doing some review in math, and in English, they’d been asked to write about their summer. She told him about what they were reviewing, though.

“Good. So, prime numbers, huh?” 

She played along while he listed off numbers, asking her if they were prime or not, “not.”

“Why not?” 

“Uhm because it’s divisible by two?” Seventy-four, as an even number, was not prime. 

“How many times?” 

Seventy-four divided by two, “thirty-seven.”

“Good,” he kept quizzing her while they drove, and by the time they reached the condo, Jade had had enough of prime numbers.

The condo no longer felt like this strange but cool place she visited sometimes. It was one of her homes, now. It’s why she felt at ease enough to flop onto the couch in front of the tv, “Can we watch a movie tonight?” 

“If there’s time after the restaurant, we’ll go to blockbuster.”

Normally, they just ordered take out since he still hadn’t learned to cook. Sometimes though, usually when he wanted to celebrate good news from work, they would go out somewhere nice to eat. “Where are we going?”

“Il Pastaio. I’ve got a table at seven.”

It was her favourite, and he knew it. That lead her to her next question, “what are we celebrating?” 

“You.”

He let her order her own appetizer, and while they waited for it to come, he told her all about this one restaurant he’d eaten at in Italy, back when he used to travel for more than just work. His travel stories were always hard for her to grasp because it just seemed impossible that he’d ever do something so interesting. Apparently, though, he used to travel a lot in his twenties.

There wasn’t enough time after dinner, so they didn’t rent a movie. 

Instead, he put on the evening news for background noise and they both sat on opposite ends of the couch, reading to themselves. It was somewhat routine; they’d done it almost every night they spent together over the summer. Sometimes, he’d ask what she was reading and they’d talk about it; but usually, it was just an easy kind of quiet. 

Jade didn’t have anything in common with her mother, looks included. They didn’t even have the same last name anymore. She constantly felt out of place at her mother’s, even when she participated in pancake shenanigans and “family time”. Even when she enjoyed it, and she was not too proud to admit that she did, sometimes. But there was always tension: they looked at the world so differently, and often those differences were irreconcilable. 

With her dad, though, she knew he understood. This time on the couch with their respective books was enough. More than enough, because they both chose to be there.

When it shifted to the weather segment, Jade left to get her PearPod. It was really pretty, he’d gotten her the red one and paid to have her initials engraved on the back. She’d been sure to take very good care of it, so it was still shiny and smooth. 

The earbuds were awkward, so she didn’t put them in right away. More than anything she just wanted to drown out the news while she read. 

It was quieter than when she’d left; he’d turned down the volume. His book was face down on his lap, and he didn’t acknowledge her as she sat down in her spot across from him. This was pretty normal. 

“I hope you remember the talks we had over the summer,” he picked up his book again and started reading from where he left off. “About standards and focus.” 

He was asking her about step two: get better grades. She was fairly confident about this, “I’ll do better dad, I-”

“I wasn’t finished,” he cut her off before she could promise. “I know you were talking about club week, but I don’t think you can handle that kind of distraction.” he looked at her pointedly, then back at his book. “I’m almost positive you can do better than that. Until you bring the grades up, I think it’s better if we use your weekends to hire a tutor. Certainly, I hope you’re not thinking about anything that would keep you busy on school nights.”

He didn’t look at her once the whole time; and that, more than anything, is what made her angry. 

She still hadn’t been in a fight with him. Her hand curled into fists, and she braced herself to start yelling, but he was so calm that reacting would look crazy. It was an impossible position and that only made it worse. It took her full effort, but she was able to push it down and hold it in her stomach.

“I promise,” but she didn’t feel like herself when she said it, “I’m going to do better.” 

“I know you will because there won’t be anything distracting you. Do you understand?”

Yes, she understood. He was telling her that she couldn’t join Drama Club, that she should cancel her lessons. He was also giving her the chance to fight him on it, leaving it open for debate, but Jade had no idea what that meant. It all boiled down to whether or not it was worth the risk.

She knew how bad things could get at her mother’s. She knew how far she could push, and she knew the worst her mother was capable of these days was a half-hour screaming match before dissolving into tears. It was fun, sometimes, to bring up the slap, just to see if Ellen still had that much anger, but she never took the bait. And she never left. 

If this is what it took for him to keep wanting her, she could do it for a year until her grades got better. Things had been going really well, they could keep going well, she had the power to keep manifesting this life, “yeah. I understand,” she said. 

He nodded, then changed the subject completely. “Do you like coffee yet? I want a nightcap.” 

Jade was still trying to process what she’d just said, so she barely heard the question. “I’ve only had it once,” she wasn’t sure she wanted to be around him right now. But as his lack of response became more poignant she turned to see him, looking at her expectantly. “I like it, yeah.” 

“It’s decaf, anyway,” he disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a mug. “It’s in the kitchen, you’ll figure out your own milk and sugar.”

The first and last time she’d had coffee was more than a year ago, but she remembered wishing it was sweeter. No human alive could make her drink milk. 

She stirred in a spoonful of sugar and tasted it. No. Another. No, but almost, and she certainly didn’t want it to be too sweet. Rather than risk it, she took it as it was, and after a few more sips she decided it was perfect. 

“Why don’t you pick whatever you want,” her dad handed her the remote as she walked back in to join him. 

There were very few shows that Jade actually enjoyed, and none of them were playing at 8:47 on a Saturday night. So there were also shows she tolerated, and she clicked on CSI: Miami. Overdone, not enough blood; but entertaining. 

They went back to their respective books and settled into the silence again. Instead of trying to talk to him, she took comfort in the searing warmth of her coffee and the words in front of her. Nonfiction tonight, she wanted to know more about bones. It was hard to focus, though, as the weight of her decision settled on her shoulders, and she wondered what the next year or so would look like without theatre. 

Even though the bed at his house was comfier than the one at her mother’s, Jade had a hard time sleeping. It didn’t sit right at all, this complacency. But, he’d put her on the spot, and she didn’t have time to weigh her options; and ultimately she didn’t think she was safe enough to get angry. 

She didn’t know if it was possible to keep going and never have a fight, but she wasn’t ready to break the streak. Not yet. If it was going to happen, it would have to be over something big, bigger than asking her to give up her passion for a little while. That’s the thing, it was only a little while.

She pulled out her notebook, the one without schoolwork, and redrafted her middle school plan. Under step three: make friends, she crossed out her initial ideas about Drama Club and musicals. That left her with just one more bulletin point under “make friends” and that was “be nice ?”. She crossed it out; probably, friends would be a distraction too. 

Sixth grade was going to suck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)  
> -Trashdove.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, buckle up. This chapter took a long time to write, and almost every scene was edited so many times and changed. Lots happening and I'm really excited to hear your thoughts! Leave a comment and let me know what you think!

Yes, she’d rather be in acting classes, yes she’d rather join the Drama Club; but that didn’t necessarily mean that focusing on her studies couldn’t also be rewarding. In its own way. Hopefully. 

Really, if she thought about it creatively, this was nothing more than an opportunity to push herself in an area where she was used to coasting. The last time she’d really applied herself to school was in the summer between third and fourth grade when she had to catch up work. Usually, she used the time to doodle or daydream.

So all week she found it very frustrating that her mind couldn't wander to acting anymore. Or Drama Club, or anything that might happen in the next year or so. She took the time to watch her classmates, the ones she didn’t know yet.

Homeroom was an abomination. Jade was sure it served no other purpose than to sit them all down while they received morning announcements and tried to stay awake. It didn’t help that the girl beside her (Tiffany? Bethany?) was a lost cause. Too bubbly, eager to please, “Hi, Jade, I hope you had a nice weekend. Do anything fun? We drove up to Ojai to visit my grandparents, and my dog-”

No. Jade wasn’t sure how to shut her up, so she just glared at the girl while she slowly ran out of breath from talking. Eventually, Tiffany or Bethany (who cares) noticed Jade’s cold stare and turned to focus her friend making efforts on the boy in front of them. Good. 

Some of her teachers were starting to move away from review and into introductions of the concepts they’d be covering over the next ten months. Even still, the kids were buzzing from first-week excitement, and not enough people knew that Jade was very unapproachable. Kids kept trying to talk to her, and she never knew how to respond. Or what to do with her hands. 

Jade was met with the first problem of her middle school career: she had no idea how to scare away the people who didn’t know her, especially not the seventh and eighth-graders. When she’d started tormenting her classmates, they were all seven years old and extremely vulnerable. She could tell them anything and they’d believe it. She’d constructed herself as a nightmare, a monster, a psycho, a freak: all things her classmates had called her at some point in elementary school in a vain attempt to hurt her feelings. 

But eighth graders probably wouldn’t believe she was a vampire.

And everyone was so much bigger than she was. 

Jade was used to being alone, but this was different. In elementary school, she’d been alone because everyone knew her and everyone feared her: that was power. Here, she was alone because she didn’t know how to scare anyone away yet. It was hiding. 

This is why she’d planned on joining Drama Club. Because then it wouldn’t matter that she didn’t know how to scare 13-year-olds or how to talk to kids her age or what to do with her hands. It would be an immediate circle that she’d be able to test out before being tossed into a completely new environment. Like learning to swim in the shallow end of a pool instead of just being tossed into the middle of the ocean. 

By Wednesday morning, Tiffany-or-Bethany had figured out that talking to Jade was pointless. This meant that Jade was free to listen to the morning announcements without the constant nattering of pointless small talk. 

Her dad didn’t ask her about friends, and it was a nice break from her mother who had been asking daily. Especially since she didn’t have anything to report, and she was starting to dread the question she knew would come when she saw her mother on Saturday. 

Over dinner, she tried to think about what answer she could possibly give. She’d told her mother that she was going to try and make friends, not a promise, but definitely something that she was being held to. But she’d promised her dad she wouldn’t let anything distract her from academic success. She could try lying, invent some friends that would inevitably be busy if her mother wanted to meet them. That could work. 

Thai was probably her favourite takeout, but she was too preoccupied to appreciate it. She shuffled rice around in her curry sauce, still thinking about the friend problem, “did you have a lot of friends growing up?” 

They didn’t usually speak much over dinner, but he was quick with his response, “not this again.” 

“It was just a question,” there was more bite to her voice than she’d intended, and immediately she regretted it. This was too close to a fight, and she wasn’t ready yet. 

He let out a small sigh and put down his chopsticks, “No, I didn’t. And there’s nothing wrong with that,” he looked across the table and held her in his gaze for a long moment. It wasn’t the cold kind of evaluation she’d felt from him before. But he broke eye contact and picked up his chopsticks again , “finish your dinner. I know you like it”

Jade looked down at her still full plate and took several mouthfuls, but she was still full of questions, “but-”

“-just eat, okay?” he cut her off, voice laden with frustration. 

She decided that it wasn’t worth bringing up again and kept eating in the silence. 

Across from her, her father was clearly deep in thought. Eyebrows coming together every few bites, gnawing on his cheek even when he wasn’t eating. He put his chopsticks down again and looked at her, “There’s nothing wrong with being an individual, Jade,” then he looked up at the ceiling as if the next words would kill him, and when his eyes flitted down again, they didn’t quite reach her, “It’s my favourite thing about you.” 

“I-” but she didn’t have anything to say about it. Instead, she didn’t stop the smile tugging a the corner of her mouth. Not a big smile, just a small one that if she turned her face down she could hide it- which she did. “Thanks,” she mumbled. 

On Friday, Mr Jimenez announced that there would be a quiz in a week, covering the review work they’d been doing. When her father asked about school after dinner, she was hesitant to mention it, but she did. 

“Next week?” A stranger wouldn’t detect the slight sense of urgency in his voice, but Jade did. 

She nodded, “yeah, it’s just a review quiz.”

“It’s an assessment. I hope you plan on giving it your full attention?”

As if she didn’t already get an A- on this material a year ago. As if she hadn’t been doing her homework every night, and checking it three times because he made her, “of course.”

“Good.”

The silence was deafening, and the need to break it was pressing against her throat. She couldn’t understand what wasn’t being said, but she knew that this couldn’t be it, “I mean, I did pretty well last year… I think I can handle a little quiz.” 

“You passed last year,” though it wasn’t really an acknowledgement.

“I got an A-minus.”

“You’re being too defensive, I didn’t say it was a bad grade. I just know you can do better,” there were a few seconds where he did nothing but blink, “or, at least I hope so.” 

“I can!” and it was very close to shouting. 

“You’re too comfortable if you think that an A-minus guarantees you an acceptable grade,” he shrugged.

Completely stuck now, Jade was left with two choices: start agreeing with him or start yelling. She clenched her jaw, and through gritted teeth she was able to say, “I’ll do better.” 

He nodded, “I think we should get a tutor, sooner rather than later.”

“I. Don’t. Need-”

“-A tutor will help ensure that you do well in future tests.”

“I think I’m fine,” she insisted

He scoffed, “yeah? well as long as you think so.”

The outright dismissal cut through her, and Jade felt the need to defend herself, “I’ve been doing all the homework, getting every question right. I know the concepts. I can learn things pretty quickly” she got gradually louder between the two sentences, “so-”

“-Calm down, Ellen,” she could hear the eye-roll in his voice, and he wore a satisfied smirk on his face. He knew exactly what he was doing.

There were a lot of things he said that she wasn’t sure about. She was supposed to tell her mom if he said or did things he shouldn’t. Did this count? All she knew is it made her want to scream, but she couldn’t. Instead, she took a sharp inhale and tried to refocus on school. What he said or didn’t say was of little consequence, she’d decided a long time ago not to read into anything from him. All she had to do was talk to him about math, then she’d be in the clear…

The genius behind that comment, she realized, was that he was insulting them both at once. He’d identified a specific quality about Jade that tied her to her mother, and he was dismissing them both. He was using her as a vehicle to continue fighting a woman whose divorce papers he still hadn’t signed. 

She’d proven that she could bite down her rage long enough to avoid a fight with him, and she’d impressed herself on Saturday when she let it slide that he thought acting was a distraction. But this was different. She knew it wasn’t fair, and she wanted to scream at him for it, but the moment she opened her mouth to do so, he shot her a glance and she was silent again. 

She couldn’t do this here. Not yet.

Her heart was hammering so fast that it pressed into her lungs, making it harder to breathe. Without even thinking about it, her hands started curling into fists, pressing all that raw anger together in her muscles so it wouldn’t escape, “I just remembered, I have homework.”

It was the only lie she thought he’d respect, and sure enough, he let her retreat to her room. Not without a final quip though, “next time, do it right away.” 

Anger was one of her favourite emotions, usually. It went hand in hand with power, and the ability to control and use it to get whatever she wanted from people was something she loved. She loved that she could get angry and the world bent around her to avoid it.

But not here. There was nowhere for it to go. 

She opened the door to her balcony, hoping that maybe the night air would cool her off. At least physically, because her whole body was hotter than it should be, and she worried for a moment that she might start sweating. Thankfully, there was a gentle breeze that blew her hair around just slightly, not enough to be a nuisance. 

It was pleasant outside, one of the nights she wished that LA didn’t have the kind of light pollution that made it impossible to see space. If she were at her mother’s, maybe she’d go for a walk, the air was just the right temperature. The palm trees weren’t close to her balcony, but she could hear the fronds moving from the wind. 

But it didn’t calm her down. 

Jade’s most prized possession sat tucked away in his glass case, on the bookshelf her dad installed last May. Once a month, she took him off the shelf for dusting and maintenance. Apparently, a lot went into keeping a glass case clear enough for Dexter to see the world- if he chose. 

Right now, though, she hated Dexter. She wanted to take him and his stupid case and throw both of them against the wall. She wanted to tear the curtains off their rods, punch a hole through her glass door, tear apart the books on her shelves- anything. 

Without thinking, she reached into her bag and pulled out her pencil case, tipping the contents out on the floor. 

She twirled one of the pencils between her fingers, debating whether or not she should draw something. But the pencil snapped, seemingly of its own accord; though the splinters in her index finger would say otherwise. Two more pencils snapped from her idly twirling them before Jade realized that she probably wasn’t going to draw. 

An hour later- though she didn’t remember deciding to do it- an entire package of printer paper was scattered across the floor of her room in pieces. Her school scissors were sharper this year, more than suitable for the job. 

They tore through the paper seamlessly, leaving precise cuts and neat edges. They felt right in her hand like they belonged there, and the feeling of torn paper vibrating so slightly in the handles was relaxing. A tiny message for one very specific part of her hand. The sound was worth noting too, though it was quiet. The twin blades meeting together in a perfect slice, only to be pulled apart and mashed together again. 

It didn’t take away any of her anger, but it made it easier to hold without it burning her, so she cut up some of the larger pieces again. Calmed her down enough so she could fall asleep, anyway. 

***

Jade was still holding onto her anger when her mother picked her up on Saturday. Her father had barely spoken to her that morning, which suited her just fine because she still wasn’t sure she could stop herself from exploding. It was this giant hot ball of fire burning throughout her whole body, completely tearing her apart because she had nothing else to do with it.

She managed to stay civil in the car, answering her mother’s questions without being too specific. School was fine, yes she had fun with her dad, no she hadn’t made any friends yet. It was pretty easy actually because she was counting down the minutes until she could lock herself in the basement and avoid everyone until she did something productive (or destructive) with that burning ball of energy. 

After the usual round of questions, her mother turned on the radio and Jade was thankful for the end of the conversation, even though she wished it were any other station. The poppy ballad with saccharine lyrics was almost enough to make her lose it, but she managed to stay in control until they got home. 

There was a crashing noise that filled her ears as soon as they walked in the door. It was almost rhythmic, but too irregular to be intentional, “we’re in here!” Matt called from the kitchen. 

“Oh, Jade you need to see this!” Her mother smiled, beckoning her to follow, which she did albeit reluctantly,

Matt had set up a few pots, and held Owen in his lap, “nooo, buddy,” Matt gently reached for the wooden spoon in the toddler’s mouth and coaxed it out, redirecting his attention to the pots and pans in front of him, “Like this!” and he tapped the surface of the largest pot.

Owen waved his arms excitedly and let out a small fit of giggles. He then copied Matt, bringing the spoon to different pots and smiling at the resulting noise. 

“He really likes it,” her mother explained, then she walked over to Owen and sat down with him, “are you making music?” she cooed at him.

“Bang!” 

“That’s right!” and she encouraged him to keep going. 

Each crash of the wooden spoon hitting a pot rang through her head. It was not a pleasant sound by any means, but no one else seemed to notice or care. 

She never knew what to do in moments like these, where Matt and her mother were fussing over Owen like everything he did was pure magic. He wasn’t ‘making music’ he was making noise, and Jade couldn’t fathom what was so amazing about bashing a pot with a wooden spoon. 

Other than the fact that, sure, it was cute. 

She watched the three of them for a while, all so in love with each other and oblivious to the fourth person in the room. Jade didn’t say anything when she walked away, and she wasn’t sure anyone would notice her absence. She had unpacking to do, anyway. 

When she’d finished putting everything away, she sat down at her keyboard. She’d been hoping to take lessons this year, but that was something she’d need to discuss with her father. He’d probably say no. She was still determined to learn, though, so she pulled out the key guide she’d copied from a library book. Her form was probably wrong, she could fix that later. Right now her focus was on being able to know which keys were which, so she could actually learn to play songs. Eventually. 

There was a small knock at her door “What?” 

Without waiting for a cleat invitation, her mother walked in“Sweetie,” she sounded disappointed, “you disappeared.”

“Had to unpack,” she didn’t look up, just kept pressing keys.

“We didn’t get a chance to catch up.”

Jade merely shrugged her response, looking for the F# key. 

In a rare moment, her mother let the silence hang there without saying anything more. It was so unusual that Jade was compelled to look at her, but couldn’t tell what she was thinking. “What?” she snapped, though not as harshly as she could have. 

“Is everything okay?” She reached out a hand and smoothed her hair the way she always did when things were wrong, “you seem...off.”

“I’m fine,” she lied. If she had been honest, then her mother would want details, then who knows if she’d ever be allowed to see her dad again. She knew it wasn’t perfect with him, but there was something about their time together; it was just so seamless. Their evenings on the couch spent in silence, watching t.v and drinking coffee. The fact that he saw she was her own person. He understood her in a way she never expected anyone to. Her odd interests didn’t disturb him, he wasn’t put off by her independence. She couldn’t give that up. 

Her mother watched her closely, looking for cracks in her lie. She either believed it or decided that it wasn’t worth getting into a fight over, because she dropped the issue entirely. “Well, come on. It’s family time.”

“No.”

She gave her a playful nudge, “Movie night.”

“Kill me,” she deadpanned. 

“You can pick,” there was a singsong quality to the way she said it.

Jade let out a long groan, “fine.” 

She was surprised that she was able to hold it together as long as she did. Ultimately, lashing out right away wasn’t the smart thing to do, wasn’t practical. So even though she wanted nothing more than to scream right in Ellen’s stupid face, she didn’t. Not during family movie night, or Sunday pancake shenanigans, not even on Monday when her mother asked her for the twelfth time since school started if she’d made any new friends.

But the longer she held onto that anger, the more intense it got. The most trivial things became irritating beyond belief. She almost lost it on Tuesday when Mr Jiminez told them that the quiz wouldn’t even count towards their final grade. She’d defended herself against her dad for nothing, he’d pushed her for no reason. She could blow the quiz entirely and it wouldn’t even matter. 

But she studied anyway. Prime numbers, long division, fractions; anything she thought might come up. She’d told her father she could handle this, and now she had to prove it. 

On Thursday at one-thirty pm, she sat down to write the quiz. It was easy, and finally, she was able to let go of some of the pent up rage still leftover from the week with her dad. 

But then at home, Ellen started the one fight that Jade couldn’t ignore, “I ran into Francine at Ralph’s today,” the grocery store closest to home, “She said she’s going to be teaching out of a different theatre, but she’d love to have you again. It’ll be a longer drive, but I know you liked her so-”

“-actually, I think I’ll skip acting this year,” Jade didn’t want to hear another word. It was painful in a way she hadn’t expected, to hear her old teacher was looking forward to seeing her. Jade had also been excited to learn from Francine again; the woman was tough and she knew a lot about the craft. But she’d made her decision, and it didn’t matter how this felt or how much it hurt, she wasn’t taking lessons this year.

There was a small clatter of utensils being put down, even Matt looked up in shock. Her mother blinked several times before saying anything, “you- what?” 

“It’s just not fun anymore.” 

“I don’t understand-” watching her Ellen try to put it together might have been painful if Jade had even the slightest energy to care, “Where is this coming from?”

She tried to play it cool, the way her dad would, so she shrugged, “I guess I’m just,” but she didn’t have an adequate excuse yet, or even a lie prepared. She had to think on the spot, “outgrowing it.” 

“Outgrowing it?” Jade could tell that her mother didn’t believe a word she just said, “nuh-uh, what’s really going on?”

“I told you, I just don’t want to do it anymore,” she insisted. She looked at the two of them, gaping at her like she’d grown an extra head. More than anything, she wanted the conversation to die here, she couldn’t imagine having to argue why she should quit something she really enjoyed doing. 

“Jade…”

“uuuuUGH.”

“You were so happy during your play...help me understand what changed.”

“Yeah, kid. This is quite the 180.” 

What changed? Everything. She had expectations placed upon her that she had to meet, she had a parent who understood her- but it was still so volatile she didn’t want to upset it. He’d asked her, not in so many words and not quite so explicitly, to choose between him and acting. She chose him, “I told you already. I just don’t like it anymore,” saying those words out loud nearly broke her heart, though her cool delivery betrayed this fact. 

Her mother narrowed her eyes in determination, and Jade knew she couldn’t get out of this without a fight. But at least it was a fight she could win. She waited for her mother’s next words, “I don’t believe that,” but she was still studying her daughter’s face, looking for any indication that the child was lying. Jade was sure not to give anything away, “I’ve never seen you as happy as when you’re working on a performance. I know you-”

“-No you don’t,” and she sounded bored. Calm, passionless. It was perfect, “you only see me half the time, and you force me to do stuff I hate,” she remembered how effective her dad’s complete dismissal had been. Like every answer she gave him was wrong. It had felt terrible. 

“Jade I’m trying to do what’s best for you,” she was getting worked up. Not quite yelling yet, but close.

“Since when?” she scoffed. 

“Always!” 

“Really?” keeping cold was easy. It was easy to pretend that this didn’t matter, that she truly didn’t care about the thing that was once her greatest ambition. In fact, if she got too heated, she’d risk breaking down and coming clean. 

“Can we HAVE a conversation? Just once?” Still not yelling, but definitely frustrated, definitely about to. 

Matt cleared his throat pointedly, and Ellen took it as a sign to take a well-timed sip from her glass of water.

Jade had the perfect comment, and she couldn't hold it in any longer, she let out a small chuckle, not quite a scoff, and said, “calm down, Ellen” it wasn’t the first time she’d called her mother by her first name, but this time was different. Before, she’d done it while screaming, but now, she was calm and patronizing. Like Ellen was a toddler throwing a tantrum over an inconsequential thing. 

Twice, she opened her mouth in search of a response, but closed it again. Usually, when Jade played the ‘Ellen’ card, her mother would yell back, it was a surefire way to get her screaming if she wasn’t already. But instead, her face went blank while she kept groping for words, “Jade, we made a promise.”

Her response came in the form of a shrug and a flat smile, “your point?” 

“What aren’t you telling me?” There was a severity to her tone that wasn’t there before, but it was soft. 

How did she know? What gave it away, and more importantly how could Jade crush that idea before it lead to anything? Her first instinct was to lie, even though she knew it wouldn’t work, “nothing.”

“Is this his idea?” 

“Honey…” but she raised a hand to silence Matt’s interjection. 

“Is. This. His. Idea?” she repeated through gritted teeth. 

“No,” Jade had never been this close to losing a fight before. 

“You promised me you would tell me if he said anything, what has he been saying to you?” good, there was an urgency in her voice and maybe Jade’s denial would get her yelling. 

“Honey-” Matt wared.

“-Stay out of this!” she growled at him before turning to Jade, “what has he been telling you?” she demanded. 

“Nothing,” Jade insisted for the third time that evening.

“Tell me!” there. Yelling. 

“He’s not saying anything!” because now, she could yell too. As long as she wasn’t the first, and all she had to do now was be mean, “I’m just finally realizing that you’re the reason everything falls apart,”, Ellen hated being reminded about that, “you told me to take acting in the first place because apparently I was a problem, but it was you the whole time. Why would I ever keep doing something you MADE me do?” it was not a particularly strong argument, and Jade knew this, she just hoped that it was mean enough and loud enough that no one picked up on how weak it was.

“I-”

“-you think you know what’s best for me. You always have, and guess what? You’re always wrong!”

“Hey!” Jade had never heard Matt yell before, “you cannot talk to your mom that way!” 

“I’ll talk to her however I want to talk to her,” she shot back, “you can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my dad.” 

“Enough!” her mother forced her way back into the fight, “Jade, just...go. Okay? Go to your room.” 

She was sure to make a production of rising from her seat, “only because I want to,” she didn’t tuck her chair in again before stomping downstairs and slamming her door. 

The energy from the argument was radiating through her, and she couldn’t sit still if she tried. So she paced the length of her room over and over, wondering how she could possibly keep up this charade. She couldn’t keep arguing for a point she didn’t believe in, and how could she possibly convince them she didn’t like acting anymore when she couldn’t convince herself? Frustrated, she shoved over her stack of CD’s, taking small satisfaction as they cascaded to the floor. 

When she went upstairs a half-hour later to retrieve the rest of her supper, she could hear hushed tones coming from the den behind the kitchen. 

“-not helpful,” she caught part of her mother’s sentence.

More mumbling, then “completely unacceptable,” Matt’s voice now, “-stand up for yourself-”

“-My daughter-”

“- you know I think of her like-”

Even though she was only catching fragments, it was unmistakable. They were fighting. 

And suddenly, a year without acting was the least of her concerns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you,  
> -Trashdove
> 
> P.S Poor Ellen


	19. Chapter 19

The first Saturday of October. 

That’s when acting classes started. Every year since third grade. 

She’d even marked it on her calendar, back in January. With two exclamation points. Of course, she’d crossed it out now, but she was staring at it anyway. 

September had gone by fairly painlessly, it was normal to have free weekends for a month while waiting for acting to start again, but on any other year, she should be starting today. 

The crossed-out message was taunting her as she stared at it. Surrounding it were other less exciting messages that weren’t scratched out, mostly just reminders for tests and keeping track of which parent she was with on any week. 

Underneath her message about acting classes was another: Dad’s week. The transitions usually happened on Saturdays in the early afternoon, but today he was collecting her at ten instead. 

All packed, ready and waiting. From the sounds of it, pancake shenanigans were well on their way, but Jade stayed downstairs, trying to focus on her notebook instead of her calendar. It wasn’t working though, and her mind was foggy as she tried not to think about how different her day would be if she hadn’t had to cross out ‘acting classes!!’

She was quiet through breakfast and didn’t have long to wait before her dad picked her up.

Clifford West had many detestable hobbies, but none were so obnoxious as his “golfing”. 

Twice a month, he felt obligated to show up at the country club he’d only joined to “make connections”, and curse his way through 7 or 8 holes before retiring to sulk by the pool. It was a terrible way to waste a day: eating rich, bland food with rich, bland people. Jade hated every minute of it. 

The experience was only slightly improved by her PearPod. She could only barely him cussing out his caddie for handing him the wrong club, “how hard is it to find a fucking driver?” Though she was fairly sure if she gave him three clubs, her dad wouldn’t know which was which. 

She just turned up the volume and nodded along to the gentle piano, didn’t even get out of the back of the golf cart. ‘Sing me something soft, sad and delicate,’ she mouthed along, ‘or loud and out of key, sing me anything’. Her fingers were splayed across the tops of her thighs in a vain attempt to imagine her keyboard, trying to match the sounds of the notes to their corresponding keys. It probably wasn’t accurate, but she was determined to learn. 

Usually, she favoured heavier sounds, but recently she’d found a song whose lyrics touched a part of her she didn’t usually acknowledge. The part of her that wanted to be loved and held, that wanted to make connections with the people around her. Even if it was stupid to trust, even if it was going to hurt anyway. That part of her was why she wasn’t giving up on her dad just yet.

He walked back over to the cart, his caddie trailing behind him by a few paces, she took out her earbuds in time to hear him muttering, “forget it, we’ll just head back.” 

“Sure, boss?” The club had given him a different caddie than last time. Jade felt a small hint of what might be pity for the poor boy who couldn’t be more than 18. This had to be a pretty shitty job, going out with different assholes all day just to be blamed when they made a mistake. “You have me for another half hour.” 

“Not interested,” he huffed, flopping into the golf cart so heavily that it shook, “ just drive us back, will you?”

“Sure thing, boss.” 

Only six holes today, though Jade didn’t mention that because it would wreck his mood even further. She just patted him on the shoulder and waited for him to turn around. 

“What?” he snapped. 

“Are we eating here or?-” the food at the club was fine but fairly boring. There was absolutely no variety and she didn’t feel like salmon or chicken with steamed vegetables. 

“-yes, I’m meeting some guys from the office.”

“Oh,” she slumped back into her seat, put her earbuds in and hit replay. 

Jade didn’t like this side of herself. She thought it was weak. But the song made it feel beautiful, and that’s what she loved about music. It made these twisted and angry and silly, stupid, weak parts of her feel like they mattered. Like other people could understand them even if she couldn’t. 

She let her mind wander to acting classes, what she wished she were doing instead. If she’d had Francine again, maybe she’d have been used as an example, it had happened several times before. Maybe they would be doing introductory games- and ugh, probably trust falls so they could ‘learn to connect with a scene partner’. Character study was far more interesting than learning how to connect with a scene partner, knowing what made people tick, why they said the things they did and how they said them- that was the real magic of acting. 

‘Guys from the office’ usually meant Smith and Hadford, and almost always Greene. When she first met them, they’d all joked around about how she “couldn’t be West’s daughter, because for god’s sake she’s gorgeous!” But it was far from charming.

Mostly they met up to talk about wives or their boss or politics. Always complaining. 

“West, you finally give up on that course?” 

This was the greeting they received when they reached the table at the dining room. So far, only Smith was there. Her father remained unphased, “ah, I just come to make sure you’re not chasing minors,” he never sounded like himself when he was with his office friends. It was barely noticeable, and maybe no one else picked up on it if they didn’t really know him, but it was unsettling for Jade. 

“I waited until she was 18!” Smith took a sip of his drink and waved a hand passively at her father’s comment. 

“Alright, tone it down,” but he was smiling anyway. 

“Jade, a pleasure as always,” Smith nodded at her. She knew better than to say anything, so she just smiled and greeted him as she took her seat. “School’s okay?” 

She was about to answer when her father cut in - “Sixth grade. Gonna be at the top of her class I think!” he nudged her shoulder, but it was something he never did and she couldn’t figure out what he meant by it, “pretty smart.” 

“You’ve mentioned,” Smith muttered as if he’d grown tired of hearing it. He turned to look at Jade again, “your dad says you’re focusing on your studies this year. Good thinkin’- ah there’s Hadford,” he waved as another of her father’s...friends (?) joined them. 

“Hey guys, Jade,” Hadford took his seat, “Greene joining us today?” 

“Nah, I think Kathy’s keeping him home,” her father piped up, “Greene’s pretty whipped.”

The other two nodded and chuckled, but Jade wasn’t sure why. Greene was probably having a better time with his wife than he would at this lame club. She knew she’d rather be anywhere else- especially acting. 

It was a fairly typical lunch. Her salmon was fine, even if the sides lacked imagination, and Hadford spent most of the time complaining about his wife. He did that a lot. 

“Honestly? Just get a divorce,” was Smith’s advice, “find a good enough lawyer.”

“Nah, it’s...well..”

Her dad took a sip of his tonic water, the other two were drinking scotch and soda, “I know what you mean. Besides, you really gonna go to Smith for love advice? The guy’s had enough wives to make up a harem and he hasn’t lasted a year with even one of them!”

Smith spit out his drink, back into its glass thankfully, so it didn’t get all over the table. Once he recovered from his laughing fit, he moved to defend himself against her father’s insult, “hey, the first one never works out!” 

“What about the second through fifth ones?” 

“They….” but he buried his face in his glass. The other two laughed at his expense. Desperate to change the conversation, he looked at Jade, “what is it you said you wanted to be when you grow up?”

An actor. But she didn’t have an answer that would be acceptable to her father, “a lawyer,” lying was becoming second nature. 

Smith perked up at this, so apparently her lie had not been in vain, “I’m in legal! You thinking corporate or?”

“Corporate,” her father interjected. 

“Pays well anyway, how else do you think I got 5 wives?” Again, this elicited a chuckle from the other men. 

“Sure wasn’t your looks!” it was clear that Hadford was joking. 

“Or your winning personality,” her father deadpanned. 

They took turns making jokes at Smith’s expense, and Jade zoned out for a while. 

“He might have a point though, about Beth- she...ah I dunno,” Hadford swirled his scotch and soda in its glass.

“Look,” Jade was pulled back into the conversation by her father’s voice. She was curious to see what he’d have to say about this, “If the love’s gone, no point sticking around is there? I mean,” he cast a sidelong look at Jade, “Smith might be right, no one gets it right the first time.”

Ouch. She wasn’t sure if he’d meant to include her in that umbrella statement of “not getting it right the first time” but it hurt just the same. 

“I’ll be right back,” she excused herself but she didn’t wait for their acknowledgement, just stood up and left the table. 

She’d hoped that him being back in her life would somehow make the separation feel less pronounced. Not that she was so disillusioned that she thought they would get together again, just that with them both in the same city, both seeing her for a week at a time, she’d thought she’d be able to pretend that there were two people out there who actually liked her. That her dad didn’t leave and her mom didn’t scream at her, and all their fights were just bad memories. 

In a lot of ways, it was easier when he’d just been gone. 

Being outside her mother’s home half the time meant that she missed milestones in Owen’s life, and when she’d return she’d have to try and insert herself into an established family of three. Like a square peg in a round hole. Because if no one got it right the first time, that meant her mother too, and she was just the product of a failed attempt at love. 

She hid in the washroom for a while. Listening to a different song now because that soft part of her needed to die if she was going to make it through the year. Heavier sounds, angrier lyrics. She wished this was the end of her week with him instead of the start; she didn’t want to be with him right now while he talked about doomed first attempts like she was never destined to work out. 

To Jade’s utter horror, she felt tears stinging behind her eyes, but she turned up the volume on her song and bit them back so she wouldn’t cry over something so stupid. She hadn’t cried in nearly two years, she wanted to keep it that way. 

Eventually, she realized she’d have to return. So she shoved her PearPod in her pocket and walked back out into the dining room. 

From the sounds of it, they were still talking about wives and divorces. Awesome. Her dad had the full attention of Smith and Hadford, both of them laughing as he spoke just loud enough that she could hear him, “more tits than brains, but damn if she wasn’t a pretty little thing…”

Hadford caught Jade’s eye and coughed pointedly, bringing her father’s sentence to an end. 

He must have been talking about her mother. 

Jade had many disagreements with her mother. She hated being forced to participate in family time, hated the endless interviewing, the feeling focused language. No one else could drive her crazy in quite the same way as her mother did. 

She was quick to point out Ellen’s many flaws (she’d written a list at some point) and she was not afraid to challenge her mother’s authority. But this was different. He was making fun of her, and Jade didn’t think she’d ever been this angry on behalf of someone else before. 

The three men were silent as she took her seat again, eventually, Hadford shifted their conversation to their respective bosses. They all worked in different departments, so they all had different complaints, but the running theme was that they all felt overworked and underpaid. 

Even though they were all sitting in a Bel-Air Country Club. 

***

Coffee wasn’t bitter at all, now that she’d gotten used to it. 

In fact, if she thought about it, evenings at the condo would be incomplete without it. Some nights it was the only warmth she could get; certainly she wouldn’t get any from her father who sat across from her in complete isolated silence. 

It was raining, which didn’t happen often, but she enjoyed the sound of it hitting the windows in the open space of the living room. Her dad sat across from her, also sipping on coffee, but he’d turned off the T.V. 

At first, when he’d clicked it off, Jade had expected another lecture about her grades. So far there had been 4 since school started. Not all of them escalated to the point where she was yelling and he remained calm, but it was frustrating nonetheless. She was trying. Why didn’t that count for anything? 

But he hadn’t. He just turned it off and kept reading his book, savouring the sound of the rain outside as the sky grew darker and the wind picked up. 

Jade wished she could clear her mind and enjoy the impending storm, but her thoughts were full of questions from the afternoon at the country club. She’d specifically avoided asking him about why he left, but now it was all she could think about, “Why,” but she didn’t want to start with the heaviest question, deciding to ease into it, “why did you and mom get married?” It was a question she’d had for a long time, ever since she could remember; sitting in her room and listening to them getting violent, wondering why on earth two people who hated each other so much would ever agree to spend their lives together. 

If she thought her mother was capable of a straightforward answer, she would have asked her instead. 

He sighed, still reading, “I was wondering if you’d had questions. Hoped you’d be older,” he shut his book and turned to her, “You need to understand, Jade, that people make mistakes.” 

“But, why did-”

“- you know better than to interrupt,” he cut her off but moved on with the topic at hand, “Ellen got pregnant, so I did what I thought was right.” 

It was straightforward, blunt, exactly what she’d been expecting in terms of delivery. The content of the message took Jade a moment to process fully, but she nodded. It was something she’d always suspected. She was a mistake. 

But she’d felt that way for a long time, so hearing it spoken out loud hardly worsened her self esteem. Somehow hearing it delivered so cold made it better, like it was just a fact and there wasn’t anything more complicated than that. She could keep thinking about the implications of this later, right now she still had questions. 

“Why’d you leave?” 

“You get one more after this, we aren’t going to talk about it all night long.” 

She nodded. 

“I don’t know how much you remember, but I,” he looked away from her, down at the carpet, “I used to drink,” he looked up again, but didn’t meet her eyes. “Tried to quit, but I’d come home and she’d drive me insane, you know how she- nevermind. I knew I couldn’t get better if I stayed,” there was this great unspoken guilt radiating off of him, but Jade knew better than to address it. “You get one more. Make it count.”

“Did you love her?” 

“You shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.” 

Which was an answer all on its own. 

The week at school blurred by her, and she felt herself slugging between classes without any excuse for being tired. She wasn’t sure what she’d learned at all, and on Friday she tried to go over her notes, but the collective noise of everyone discussing weekend plans was such that she couldn’t hold focus on any idea. Maybe she’d written notes in science class? Maybe they were talking about plants? 

Honestly, she was more concerned about everything she’d learned that night after the country club. 

When her father had said that nobody gets it right the first time, Jade was led to believe she was the result of a half-hearted love. But she was wrong. It wasn’t even half-hearted, it was completely barren. She was a mistake. 

It didn’t matter how she felt about it. Feelings wouldn’t change the reality. Besides, she didn’t know how she felt anyway. At first, she’d been relieved to hear the truth so bluntly; her mother had this annoying habit of beating around the bush and taking ages to get to the point. But then she was mad. Then lost. And by the time her week with her dad was over, she just felt confused. 

When she saw her mother, she was hit with equal urges to hug and punch her.

Knowing that her father thought Ellen was an empty brain and a pair of boobs did nothing but push Jade further away from him. Her mother, whether she liked it or not, was a part of who she was, and to hear that her dad had never even loved her filled Jade with an indescribable rage that she’d never felt for someone else before. 

But at the same, Ellen was culpable for the failure of the first marriage. It took two to make a baby, so her father was not solely responsible for the mistake of her conception. 

Ever since she’d quit acting (there were two more fights about it) her mother had reinstated the rigorous interrogations every time she returned from a week with her father. Jade could reliably expect to answer if he’d said anything he shouldn’t have, if she was happy, and if she wanted to stop seeing him. She could only answer the last of these questions honestly. 

The lie: no he hadn’t said anything he shouldn’t have. Except that her mother was stupid, that he didn’t love her, and that Jade was a mistake. 

The lie: yes she was happy. But, really, how could she be?. She was out of place no matter where she was and it was only more pronounced when she’d go to school and hide away at recess. She had no outlets to channel this new conflict into, and that in itself was distressing. 

But she was telling the truth when she said she didn’t want to stop seeing him. Because she was sure that it was just a matter of effort. That if she tried harder, did better, eventually things would be like they were supposed to be. He’d be a good dad once she’d proved that she deserved it. 

Jade knew that the conversation with her father, harsh though it had been, was easier than it would be with her mother. Still though, she knew she was missing half the story. 

“Did you ever love dad?” 

The question was so abrupt, even Jade was shocked by it. She certainly didn’t plan on starting such a heavy conversation with her mother, of all people. 

“We were married.”

Which wasn’t an answer.

And now Jade understood why her father thought Ellen was stupid, “But… nevermind.” 

Her mother kept looking at her through the rearview mirror, “I did. Or, I thought I did,” she answered, drumming her fingers across the surface of the steering wheel, “Sweetie, relationships can be complicated. I- yes. I loved your father, but we just,” she trailed off. 

“Got it.”

“I always wanted a family,” but Jade didn’t need more information. She had an answer to the only question she cared about at this point. 

“I said I got it,” because she’d already heard enough about this. It hurt enough knowing her dad thought Ellen was shallow and stupid and annoying. Whatever her mother had to say about him, Jade didn’t want to know. 

The traffic was terrible on the freeway, probably there was an accident up ahead. It just meant that the silence was made even worse by the fact they were standing completely still. Her mother kept tapping the steering wheel, “So,” she drew out the word, “how was school this week?”

That was a complicated question, seeing as she couldn’t remember it, “Fine.”

“Any friends yet?” 

Jade couldn’t help the groan that escaped her, “why do I need friends? I don’t need anyone.”

“You say that, but you must be lonely?” 

“No,” maybe. A little. 

Hiding out in deserted hallways and corners of the playground was starting to get repetitive. There were instances, even in the past week, where she’d listen to her classmates talking to each other; jealous of the ease at which they all seemed to be able to socialize. It’s not that she was awkward (or at least she hoped not) it was that other kids were fundamentally not interesting enough. 

There was one boy in her Spanish class whose doodles were well sketched, and a girl in her math class who acted like a human calculator. But they already had friends and no one else was really worth her time. 

Drama Club still hadn’t started, but that didn’t matter because she couldn’t join anyway. But maybe once she learned who was in the club, she could try to make friends with them on the playground. It shouldn’t be too hard to find out, already she knew which kids belonged to the swim team or the debate league, so it stood to reason that she’d be able to find kids who liked drama without actually having to join the club. 

But, then again, maybe she should worry less about friends and more about how she could get the grades that would make her dad proud. Prove to him that just because she was a mistake, didn’t mean she was a failure. That just because her mother was stupid, didn’t mean she was. The pressure was on, more than it had been at the start of term because now she knew just how much he hated half of her. 

So, on Monday in homeroom, she forced herself to try and recall anything from the week before. Yes, they’d talked about plants in science. Negative integers in math. She drew a number line on the paper in front of her to practice. Not hard. 

They all had to rise for the pledge of allegiance and the national anthem, but when she sat down again she’d lost her train of thought. 

Jade had never had a problem with focusing before, she’d never lost track of her thoughts. It was beyond frustrating that her mind felt like t.v fuzz for the past week, and she’d hoped it would be better now that she was back with her mother. 

Math? Integers. The number line wasn’t drawn as neatly as it should be, so she drew it again while the morning announcements rattled on over the intercom. 

God, morning announcements were hilarious. They were probably written by the school’s principal. He was about a million years old. 

Jade only half-listened as the lunch options were read out. 

“-And tuna tacos,” even better than the announcements themselves was the awkward kids they chose at random to read them. This poor boy was barely speaking loud enough to be heard, “s-so it should be a real fiesta.” 

A small snort of laughter escaped her. The announcements were always a trainwreck, which usually meant there was something worth laughing at. Fiesta, really? That plus the boy’s sheer awkwardness made for a truly delightful experience, she loved it when other people did embarrassing things like that. Reminded her that her classmates were only human. Her laugh had drawn attention from Tiffany-or-Bethany and the boy in front of them. She shot them both a menacing glare and they looked away again.

“Learn how to be a rad recycler!” a different student, not as funny as the boy because she was audible and not stuttering. It still wasn’t good, but she was trying, “Environmental Club! meets today! at 12:30 in room 119!” There’s no way that Environmental club was that exciting. Nothing was that exciting.

“Tha-t’s not the only one!” Oh, good. The boy was back. “Drama Club also meets today in room 113, so bring your star power.”

Her eyes snapped to the intercom on the classroom wall before she remembered that it didn’t matter where Drama Club was meeting or when, she wouldn’t be there. 

The promise was that she wouldn’t get distracted from schoolwork. That she wouldn’t join. But she’d said nothing about not hanging outside the door to room 113 during recess...just to see if it was interesting. It was a fine line, but as long as she didn’t enter the room, she technically wasn’t breaking her promise. 

From the sounds of it, they played a few improv games; park bench, party quirks, freeze, that kind of thing. It sounded like fun. Already, Jade could hear people getting more comfortable with each other, inside jokes were starting to form, and some of them must have been from previous years. 

Maybe if she wasn’t a mistake, she’d be able to make friends. Because then she wouldn't have to prove anything, and she’d be free to do whatever she wanted instead of trying to convince her dad she was worth it. If she wasn’t a mistake, she could walk in right then and there, pretend she was late. Lose herself in a scene. 

Then she heard something that couldn’t possibly be correct. 

“It’s uh….it- I…” and Jade knew the voice but it couldn’t be...

“It’s okay Emily, that’s what the first meeting’s for.”

Monster Bait. 

And now, she finally had an outlet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're still liking it! Definitely picking up in the next few chapters. Love hearing your thoughts, so leave a comment if you're inclined. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!   
> -Trashdove


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little outside my update range, but I hope it's still all good.

Jade didn’t know how Emily managed to go unnoticed for the first month of school, but it didn’t really matter. 

What did matter was that Jade wasn’t allowed to exist anywhere. Not with her dad where she had to hold her tongue, not with her mom where she couldn’t give even the slightest hint that anything was wrong. Not at acting, which she’d had to quit, not even at school where she passed through the hallways wishing she was bigger and meaner so she could intimidate the other students like she used to. 

It mattered that she was exhausted. All the time. Regardless of how much or how little sleep she actually got; she’d wake up in a haze, practically glued to her bed. She’d have to muster up the energy and strength to pry herself off her mattress. It was similar to that ever-present fear in the sense that every stimulus was amplified to the point that it made her more irate than usual. Owen’s giggling would cut right through her, ringing in her ears and ruining her already ruined morning. 

It was just plain impractical to pick a fight with her dad. Especially since she’d learned about his perception of her mother and their marriage; she was feeling additional pressure to stay perfectly in line. 

She’d also not forgotten the fight that occurred between Matt and her mother. It had been about a month now, and Jade hadn’t seen any sign of another argument, but she was terrified that she might cause another one. It had been a quiet fight, sure, but she didn’t want to push that envelope, didn’t want to escalate it any further. 

But Jade knew for a fact that she could do whatever she wanted to Emily, and as long as she was smart about it, she’d never get caught. Knowing this made Tuesday morning slightly easier. 

Granted, she still woke up wishing she hadn’t. But breakfast wasn’t nearly the same minefield of irritating noises that she’d usually have to pretend didn’t bother her. 

Homeroom served a purpose after all. It was the perfect place for Jade to collect her thoughts and figure out what she intended to do with this new information that Emily and she had been at the same school for a month. Not only that, but Emily was trying different clubs. The girl had been abysmal in drama club, from the sounds of it, but maybe she’d been trying her hand at other clubs and teams. Maybe monster bait was trying to make friends too. Maybe she’s already succeeded. 

That last thought bothered Jade in a way she couldn’t quite understand. That Emily might be getting away with moving on from the hardships of elementary school as if they’d never happened. Meanwhile Jade was still dealing with the ripple effects of simply being born. 

It wasn’t fair. People like Emily just...existed with ease of belonging. Jade remembered how quickly Emily made friends in third grade, how she still came to school with perfect braids and lunches with loving notes from her parents, that no matter what Jade said or did to her. 

She hadn’t actually seen her, but she was sure that those braids were a constant in Emily’s life. Probably the lunches too. Jade specifically looked for her at recess, and sure enough, her golden hair was twisted into a flawless french braid hanging down her back. 

Emily seemed to be doing alright. She was smiling brightly in a group with two other girls and a boy Jade recognized from club week. The cute one who was in drama club. 

So she had made friends. In drama club. 

The need to tear her down flared inside Jade, and she had to suppress the urge to not act right then and there. She wanted nothing more than to walk up to Emily, grab her by her stupid braid and drag her away. She wanted to give Emily something that would make her angry whenever she thought about it, even years later. 

But that would be obvious, and Jade was sure that Emily was still unaware that they shared a school now. Secrecy was key. 

Right now she was just gathering intel. Knowledge was power, and once she knew enough about Emily’s life in middle school, she’d be able to destroy it more effectively. She couldn’t possibly take action until she had sufficient information. 

She completely forgot about her Geography test that afternoon. With the constant fog in her brain and her preoccupation with Emily, Jade had lost track of her other thoughts. She nibbled on the inside of her lip while she tried to place states in the correct areas and hopefully got their capitals right. 

Emily shouldn’t have friends. Nebraska...Lincoln? Emily shouldn’t have anything. Oregon, that’s where her Grandma lived, in Applegate, maybe that was the capital? Eventually, she’d solve the Emily problem. It was just a matter of patience and accuracy. 

She got the test back on Friday. B-. 

B-, which Jade knew was an unacceptable grade. The only question was whether or not she’d told her father about this test beforehand. Was he bound to ask her about it tomorrow? If so, could she get away with a lie? 

Usually, Jade loved her mother’s stir fry, but she pushed it around on her plate as she contemplated all the possible ways she could avoid telling her father about the test. 

What if he found out she’d hid it from him? Would that be better or worse than being upfront about the blunder? If she was honest about it right away, maybe he’d be happy about that and forget about the grade itself. 

Or maybe he’d think she was stupid. 

Like her mother. 

So she should hide it. But if he found out, what would he do then? She hadn’t heard him yell even once their entire time together, but she remembered the way he used to. Or maybe he’d put her in that impossible position again, where she felt the need to defend herself and he made it seem like she was being irrational. 

Like her mother.

“Jade?” her mother’s voice sounded a million miles away, but it pulled her from her thoughts. 

“Hmm?”

“I asked you about school?” 

But she couldn’t hear anything other than the fact it was a question. Her eyes were glazed over as she stared at her plate, she didn’t look up while she responded, “No actually, I’m pretty full.”

“Kid?” Matt leaned over and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead, “you feeling okay?” 

“Fine,” she answered with a small shrug.

“You’re not eating,” her mother pointed out the obvious. 

In truth, Jade felt sick to her stomach and the feeling only worsened the more she thought about her B- and what she was going to do about it.

“No fever,” Matt muttered to himself.

“Sweetie?”

Owen babbled in his high chair. Bib covered in sauce and bits of rice. Jade stared at him without seeing while she kept trying to figure out her puzzle. She turned her head towards Ellen, eyes still on her baby brother, “school was fine.” 

“Okay, what’s wrong?” 

She heard the question that time. “Just tired?” but she hadn’t meant to say it like that. “I’m, yeah. Going to bed.” 

There was some truth to her clumsy lie: she really was exhausted. Not that that was new. She couldn’t feel herself moving as she stood up and tucked in her chair, almost out of her body as she walked downstairs. 

If she were in a better headspace, she might have heard Matt say “let me try.” 

Only when she closed the door to her room did Jade realize she was barely breathing. The whole reason she’d quit acting was so she could get better grades, but she’d just gotten a mark that she knew her father would not approve of. She half sank half fell to the floor next to her CDs, but she couldn’t think of what to play. 

B-. 

It was just a small mistake, she’d forgotten that’s all. 

B-. 

Just a mistake. But she couldn’t make mistakes. 

The walls around her were spinning, and she pulled her knees to her chest only to feel her whole body shaking. She heard more than felt her gasping breaths, and she circled her hands around her arms to try and force stability into the moment. 

There was a knock at the door, but she didn’t have enough air in her lungs to answer. The thought of anyone seeing her like this only worsened the sensation, her heart started hammering with strength enough that she could feel it pressing into her lungs. 

“Kid?” Matt’s voice came from behind the still closed door, “you okay?”

“I’m fine,” but her voice was shaky and breathless, and about an octave too high.

“I’m coming in!” 

No. No. No no no no no no. No. She squeezed harder, dull pain shooting through her arms where she grasped them. No. She cowered away from the door as it opened, trying desperately to hide from him as he entered the room. 

“Jade…” he breathed, and suddenly was sitting right next to her. “Hey,” his voice was low, soothing and calm, “Hey, look at me.”

She shook her head, still not able to see him and hoping with flawed logic that maybe he couldn’t see her either. 

“Look at me,” he repeated, slowly bringing a hand to her shoulder, but she flinched under his touch. It was too heavy right now, and she was grateful when he drew away immediately. 

He shifted and appeared right in her limited line of sight. His face was contorted with concern, but he wasn’t distressed. His breaths were levelled and intentional, loud enough that she could hear them. In. out. 

Subconsciously, she copied him. It took several minutes before she was able to match his slow rhythm, several more before her breaths were steady. But, once they were the world came back into focus, and she realized how little energy she had left in her body. 

“There we go,” he said, bringing his hands to her arms, slowly, so she could stop him if she wanted to, but she didn’t. He took her hands in his and gently pulled them away from where she’d been grasping herself, bringing them down to her sides and then pulling her into a tight embrace. “I got you.” 

His arms were warm around her, and Jade leaned into him while her breathing continued to even out. Every now and then she’d be hit with a jolt of energy that would shock her body and her breath would hitch, but Matt kept holding her, rubbing between her shoulders while he did so. “I got you,” he said again, but the reminder was nice. She nodded. 

Once she was done, and her breaths were reliably steady, she pulled away from him. “I got a B-.” 

“We don’t need to worry about that right now.”

“No, I….it was geography and I forgot about the test…” her heart rate picked up again. 

“Jade, it’s okay. We can talk about it later.”

“But-”

“It’s okay,” his hands were on her arms and he gave them a small squeeze, “you’re okay.”

Jade was quiet after that remark, thinking about how different the response would be from her actual dad. Or even her mom, which, now that she thought of it, “where’s mom?”

“Probably still doing dishes, worried sick. Want me to go get her?”

“I don’t know…” 

“Why don’t we both go up? I’ll make hot chocolate or…”

But Jade knew exactly what she wanted, “Do we have decaf?” 

“Tea?” 

She shook her head, “coffee.”

“Let’s go up and look.”

Jade followed him to the kitchen where her mother was, as Matt had predicted, doing dishes. But from the looks of it, she was very concerned about one particular glass as she kept running the cloth over the same spot over and over again.

Ellen heard them before she saw them, and started asking, “Is she-” but as she turned around and saw Jade, blotchy faced and exhausted, she put the glass on the counter and rushed over to her, “sweetie?” she placed a hand on either side of her child’s face, brushing her thumbs across Jade’s cheeks. 

“Can we not talk about it?” Jade pleaded. 

There was silence as her mother and Matt exchanged looks, a wordless conversation. “We don’t have to right now.” 

Relief washed over her. Jade knew she couldn’t possibly have that conversation with her mother while she was still completely drained. There would be too many questions, some of them about her father no doubt, and she didn’t have the requisite energy to lie. 

They didn’t have decaf coffee. 

She fell asleep as soon as she hit the mattress.  
***  
Jade woke up groggier than usual. Instead of taking time to draw and write in her notebook, she pulled the covers over her head and lay there. Awake. 

The B- couldn’t be her fault, because if it was that would mean one of her cardinal rules was false. Figuring out how to wiggle away from the blame was difficult, to say the least. It required rapid-fire thinking, solutions, and way more energy than she had. 

Jade would rather take the easy way out. Just find the first scapegoat that popped into her head and work from there. 

Monster Bait? 

Sure. Why not. After all, when she thought about it, Emily had been a distraction that week. Figuring out how to strip the blonde of her newfound happiness had taken up space in Jade’s mind, and how could she expect herself to focus now that she knew the world was so backwards? Emilly wasn’t supposed to be happy, wasn’t supposed to have friends, be in drama club- any of it. Until that was remedied, Jade couldn’t possibly hold herself accountable for getting distracted. 

She knew it didn’t make sense, but she didn’t care. Hating Emily fuelled her so that she was able to get out of bed in time for breakfast. It gave her enough energy to dodge her mother’s questions, and paradoxically it filled her with a sense of optimism. 

Her mood only got better when her dad failed to ask about the geography test. She must not have told him about it. 

Usually, he hounded her for information on her schoolwork. When her tests were, what marks she got back, how much homework she’d been assigned, what the next units would be so she could read ahead. It was annoying. 

Indian takeout that night. At least her dad shook it up, on occasion. 

“School was good?”

But it was the same conversation as always. “Yep.” Jade was getting pretty good at running through conversations on autopilot. 

“I think I’ve found a tutor that should suit you.” 

She knew it was risky to contradict him, but the suggestion still made her skin crawl, “I told you, I don’t-”

“-Your success is important to me, Jade,” he said flatly. “He’s 15, goes to Westgate-”

“-I thought that was a middle school,” and that was her second contradiction of the evening. Maybe she was feeling bold now that she had a goal in taking down Emily, or maybe she hated the idea of a tutor that much. 

“It’s an academy, they have a different campus for high school” her father was showing an unprecedented amount of patience. He never let her interrupt. “He’s a senior, skipped some grades.” 

Jade held back her eye roll, but couldn’t stop her brows from raising in mock excitement, “Wow, good for him,” she said flatly. 

There was a clatter as her father’s utensils hit his plate, “is there something wrong?” but it wasn’t a question. It was a challenge.

And she felt feisty enough to take the bait, “Yeah, I don’t need a tutor,” there was an edge to her voice, she was challenging him too. 

His eyes narrowed as he took her in with his icy glare and sighed. “You have been at school for over a month and have yet to rise to the level I expect from you.”

Jade’s heart sank. Did he somehow find out about the geography test? That was the only assignment she’d gotten less than an A on. 

“Excellence, Jade.”

“But-”

“-you need to stop interrupting me,” no one else would have noticed the way his voice got quieter. Slower. It sent a chill down her spine. “ You really think you don’t need him?”

It felt like a trap somehow, but the idea of a tutor was so terrible she couldn’t help but be honest. And a little bit snarky, “No, I don’t need him.” 

“Good luck proving me wrong. And Jade?” 

“Hmm?”

“Don’t talk back to me again,” That was the last thing either of them said for the rest of the evening.

Jade wished she was back in Matt’s warm embrace, where it was safe to argue and mess up and speak out of turn. Miss questions and forget about tests. Get grades that were far from ‘excellent’. 

But she had to be tougher than that. 

They spent Sunday mostly at the pool in the condo. Jade went in and out of the hot tub, shocking her system by plunging into the cold water only to relax again in the heat. When no one else was in it, she could pretend she was all alone in a giant steaming cauldron, waiting to be turned into soup. 

The book her mother had gotten her for her birthday had a few stories about witches: none of them involved eating children, but she could dream. If she’d actually been kidnapped by witches, placed in a pot and slowly stewed, Jade wasn’t sure she’d try to escape. 

Instead, she’d impress them with her composure in the face of death, and they’d invite her to join their coven. They’d teach her to curse her enemies and extract magic from the natural world. Maybe they’d help her take care of Emily. 

The more she read about it, the more Jade was fascinated by witchcraft. She knew that likely, there wasn’t any curse that would make Emily go away or suffer slowly until she just gave up, but there was probably something that would give her the insight on how to best take down the blonde. 

Some of it was boring, she didn’t really care about gems or placing them under a full moon. Wasn’t sure she believed in that. Still, it was interesting to read about, especially when she had nothing better to do with her evenings and weekends.

One of the books she’d picked up had an entire section about knives. Well, blades. She’d read that part intensively, learning the slight differences between athames and bolines. Jade thought it might be interesting to try carving a candle, see if that did anything. And if it didn’t at least it would look cool. Maybe if she did it right, she’d actually get kidnapped by witches. 

Bolines and witchcraft had to be put on hold after dinner when her father made her sit down with her homework; another nightly occurrence. Always after dinner and before coffee. Even if she didn’t have any homework, or any tests coming up. Even on weekends.

He loomed over her, watching as she wrote down her answers and correcting her before she was even finished. Jade wished it was something she could get used to, but it had been over a month and still, she shuddered at the sharp intake of his breath every time she made a mistake. 

“This is why you need a tutor,” he muttered to himself.

Jade just blinked and continued with her homework, trying her best to ignore him. But each disappointed sigh or mumbled insult only made it harder to focus, boiling her blood to the point she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from snapping at him. 

Before bed, she cut up the pizza box from that evening into tiny pieces. The process was satisfying, it cleared her mind enough that she was able to focus on Emily. Jade didn’t know enough yet; but she was starting to run out of patience. After all, it was that little piece of monster bait’s fault that she’d gotten such a bad grade on her geography test. How long could she let Emily roam the halls, free to keep ruining Jade’s life? 

She dedicated all her spare hours over the next week into figuring out more about the blonde. Her new friends were all seventh graders, all from drama club (Jade sat outside the door to room 113 again, listening to Emily stumble through improv games only to receive support and praise). Molly, Jordan, and Tara. 

From the sounds of it, Tara would be the easiest one to crack. Jade unintentionally overheard her gossiping in the restrooms during lunch. She didn’t know enough about the other two yet. Only that Molly and Jordan were dating- but that couldn’t be helpful. 

The Halloween dance wasn’t held on the 31st, but instead on the Friday before. Her dad had warned her not to get too excited, that probably no one would ask her to dance since “boys go for the pretty girls.” 

Thankfully though she was at her mother’s house that night, so she didn’t get the reminder as she put the finishing touches on her costume. A vampire. It’s the same costume she’d worn for three years now, but it always stood out for the placement of her stage blood, which she got at a specialized store. It was the same type they used in Candyman, which wasn’t her favourite slasher, but she liked it well enough. 

It didn’t matter if no one asked her to dance, she had bigger plans. 

Matt pulled into the school ten minutes early, “First dance. That’s exciting!”

“Sure,” she turned to get out of the car.

“Wait,” he said, and Jade rolled her eyes but looked at him, “Boys can...what I mean is that…” he cleared his throat and pulled at the collar of his shirt, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Like kissing, for example. Or...no, yeah. You don’t have to kiss anyone if you don't want to. Now, if you do want to, that’s another thing entirely, and…” 

Was he trying to give her ‘the talk’? “Matt,” she tried to cut him off but he was still rambling.

“...I mean, you’re not, but some of your classmates are at an age…”

“Matt.”

“It’s okay to say no, is what I mean.” 

“Thanks,” she said, biting her tongue in amusement. Jade had never had a problem saying no. 

Besides, she wasn’t there to dance. Or kiss. She was there for Emily. 

It had posed an interesting challenge because she couldn’t just intimidate Tara, Molly and Jordan. Not like she’d been able to with other classmates in the past. She’d had to figure out a different way to remove Emily’s friends from the equation; sneakier. 

The gym had been decorated fairly cheaply, and the music was all top 40 songs from three years ago playing way too loud. But it was fine, she wasn’t here to enjoy herself; well, not by dancing anyway. She didn’t pay much attention to the songs or the other students, just leaned against the bleachers out of Emily’s line of sight. As far as she knew, the blonde still didn’t know they attended the same school; and though her plan wouldn’t be ruined if Emily found out, it would work a lot better if she stayed in the dark. 

“I like your costume,” Jade hadn’t heard him approach, but he was hard to ignore now. 

She looked him up and down. Didn’t recognize him, and he was dressed as Batman, “no.” 

He shuffled away, and Jade saw him rejoin his group of friends. Some of them laughed and some of them tried to console him. Not important. 

Emily had moved over to the snack table, she was talking to one of the teacher chaperones. Jade looked back to where the blonde had been before that boy tried to ask her to dance: Tara was alone, Molly and Jordan were dancing. 

Tara was key to her plan. Jade waited until the girl left to use the restroom. 

Acting quickly, she walked up to two girls from her geography class. Alice and Megan. Jade didn’t speak with them often, but they all knew each other well enough, having worked together on map assignments. 

“Oh my god, you guys,” and she knew she had their interest immediately. “You’ll never guess what I just heard.”

She had their attention well enough that when she suggested they go somewhere quieter, the two girls followed her into the restroom without a second thought. Already whispering and trying to guess what the news might be. 

“Do you think it’s about Mrs Huber?”

“Who cares about Mrs Huber?”

Jade was already regretting this aspect of her plan, but she needed unknowing accomplices. It would be too obvious if she went to Tara directly. 

There were a few occupied stalls, but it didn’t make a difference, Jade could still see Tara’s pink flats. 

“Okay, so you didn’t hear it from me,” she began in a hushed tone that only pulled Megan and Alice in closer, “and you CANNOT say anything…” which she knew made it even more enticing, “promise?” 

“Sure, just tell us!” Alice was 

“Okay, you know Emily Parker?” 

“She’s in my math class!” Megan joined in, seemingly excited that she had something to contribute.

Jade thought this was possibly the greatest acting challenge of her life, but she smiled along with the other girls. “Okay, so I overheard these girls talking about it, and they heard-” she wanted to involve other people. Nameless people. Create the illusion that the scope of this information was grade-wide. School-wide, “-that Emily totally has a crush on Jordan.”

“Jordan...like...JORDAN Jordan?” 

Jesus. “Yeah, and…” she lowered her voice, “I guess she joined the drama club? And she hangs out with his friends all the time?”

“Well, now we know why!” Megan piped up again, “I didn’t know she was in drama club...she’s soooooooo quiet?” 

“Anyway, they were talking about it-”

“-What else did they say?” Alice was trying to be a part of this now, too. Which Jade supposed was a good thing, but it was infuriating. 

She stayed in character though. A pre-teen gossip, not the role she would have chosen for herself if she thought there was a better route, “that he’s the whole reason she even joined the club in the first place.” Jade didn’t understand the middle school preoccupation with relationships and crushes. It’s not that she was blind, or that she didn’t notice boys… or even like some of them. It was just...why did any of it matter? They would all just get their hearts broken anyway. And even if they didn’t, why did anyone care about feelings at all?

Whether or not she understood it didn’t weigh into the plan. She knew Megan and Alice were interested in this kind of thing, and just like clockwork, Alice piped up, “But isn’t he dating-”

“-Molly? Yeah, he is.” Megan nodded. 

“And they’re friends? Aren’t they?” Alice asked. 

Jade looked for Tara’s pink flats, still in the stall. No one took that long in the restroom. She made sure her voice was at that magic sweet spot. The stage whisper, so Tara could feel like she was privy to secret information, even though it was Jade’s every intention that the older girl heard them. “Not according to what I heard,” the genius lied in anonymity. Jade would be gone before Tara got out of the restroom, and no one would know where this rumour originated from. No one would trace it back to her since neither Alice nor Megan had said her name. 

“Oh my god!” 

Jade nodded, keeping her eye roll internal, “I know. And that’s not even the worst thing.” 

“What is?”

Collateral damage was unavoidable, “he likes her back. And I heard...no I shouldn’t.” 

“Tell us!” Alice demanded. 

“No, I don’t even know if I heard it right.” Jade backed down to give the lie some credit. To leave something to the imagination, some mystery that people would try to figure out. 

She watched her accomplices as they nattered back and forth, each of them claiming they knew something was weird about Emily, but Jade needed to be gone before Tara left her stall. She made an excuse to get back to the gym and slipped back into the shadows. 

It was far more effective than she could have hoped for. All she’d needed to do was take away Emily’s friends, but on Monday morning, Jade overheard a few older kids in the hallways whispering about the sixth-grader who’d made out with her friend’s boyfriend. At lunch, she noticed Emily sitting alone, several people giving her cold stares. Even Tara and Molly. 

When Jade sat outside the door to the drama room to listen to the club at recess, Emily’s stuttering voice was absent. 

And nobody knew where the rumour started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A B- is a perfectly fine grade. Be like Matt, not Cliff.  
> Liz Gillies is beautiful. Be like Matt, not Cliff. 
> 
> Thanks for reading,  
> -Trashdove.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of part one of a two-part chapter. My tags are upfront about the fact that there's bullying, but now's a good time to remind everyone that, yes, there's bullying.

Jade had been looking forward to trick or treating at her dad’s condo. Beverly Hills was bound to be more interesting than Toluca Lake. Already she could see people spending inordinate amounts of time and money decorating their lawns and the outside of their houses. One lawn had an entire graveyard, with body parts and bones littered across the dirt. 

But that was before her father informed her the night before that she was too old for Halloween. She didn’t wear her costume to school on the 31st. Not the only one at school, but the only one in any of her classes not dressed up. 

“Would’ve thought you’d be all over Halloween,” Tiffany-or-Bethany (who’s name was actually Mellanie, but it didn’t make a difference) was dressed as a witch. 

“You thought wrong.” 

The announcements informed her of a costume contest at recess in the cafeteria, which she attended only to confirm that she could have won. 

Jade recognised the Batman that had complimented her at the dance, he strutted across the makeshift runway and flexed the fake muscles of his costume causing a small uproar of laughter. A few of his friends wolf-whistled and the principal had to step in to calm everyone down. “That’s QUITE enough.”

After him, there were several people in Scream masks, a few girls dressed as hippies or nerds, someone just in their pyjamas. 

Overall the level of execution was very low. First prize went to an eighth-grader named Lily and her zombie costume. The makeup was impressive, but even from a distance, Jade could tell that her blood was just the cheap stuff you could buy at any party store. Not dark or thick enough, and it dried way too red. 

Her dad was late to pick her up, which wasn’t altogether unexpected. Sometimes he arrived an hour after school let out, never explaining why he was late.

They drove and he asked the regular questions about school and homework, but then he did something unexpected. 

He pulled into Blockbuster, “you wouldn’t have gotten homework done tonight if you’d gone trick or treating,” he explained as he got out of the car, beckoning her to follow, “so go on, pick a movie. Just, nothing stupid,” he was even smiling when he said it. Well, his version of smiling anyway. 

After a half-hour of careful browsing, she approached him with three DVDs. 

He shook his head, “No, I said one.”

“Yeah, but I can’t pick.”

He took the small stack from her and looked through them, took out The Exorcist, “put the others back.”

She was in the middle of reshelving them when he called out, “And get Carrie!” so she did. Of course, she’d seen Carrie. Liked it. But she was still excited that her dad was apparently invested in the movie night. 

He waited for her at the register with a bag of popcorn, a tub of cotton candy, and The Exorcist. The acne faced teen looked nervously at Jade, “Uh, these are rated R,” his voice cracked. 

“Did you want my ID?” her dad deadpanned, but the boy looked back at Jade.

He scanned Carrie but stopped at The Exorcist, “Some of the scenes can be…”

“Well then it’s a good thing you’re not the one watching it,” Jade shot back. 

If she were with her mother, they would have put the DVD back and she’d be made to apologize. But her dad just chuckled once and clapped a hand on her shoulder. She smiled to herself at his approval. 

Usually, after talking about school, her dad would let the conversation die off naturally. He didn’t talk about much, and most of their bonding happened in moments of shared quietness. It was surprising then, that he spoke up when they got back in the car, “you’re pretty quick on your feet. If you’re serious about legal, you have a future there.” 

Compliments were so few and far between that Jade couldn’t leave it there. If he was in this mood, the kind that let her pick movies and skip homework, she was going to take full advantage of it. Even if it meant lying through her teeth, “yeah, I want to be a lawyer,” she said without a second thought. 

“Well, you’ll be good at it,” he looked over at her intently before turning his attention back on the road, “that’s where I started. In legal.” 

“Oh?” 

“Mhm. Corporate gives you the chance to move up in a company. Find better positions to make more money and go there.” 

“Huh,” she lost interest in the conversation now that he’d moved on from complimenting her. They fell back into their usual silence for the rest of the drive, only speaking when he drove through Inside Out Burger. It was already late which is why they didn’t do takeout. That, and her father had already bought snacks for their movie night, so they didn’t need a full meal. 

Okay, so The Exorcist was scary. So what? It was a movie that was based on things that didn’t exist. There were scenes that were difficult, but more often Jade found herself laughing. The scratchy demonic voice coming through the girl’s body, the terrified adults. Sometimes, she’d look over and her father would be smiling too. 

It was eerily familiar to the night he’d left, except she knew it was entirely different. He wasn’t going anywhere this time, and during the more disturbing scenes, she’d catch him looking over at her to make sure she was alright. She was. 

More than alright, in fact, because somehow this was the best Halloween she could remember. The special effects were top-notch considering it came out in the ’70s, and she could understand why it was considered to be such a classic. It had been so long since she’d seen a new movie that she actually liked, and before bed, she took time to write down her notes on it. She wondered where it fit in compared to other movies, whether it was better than her favourites or if she still favoured the noir horror too much to consider a colour film. 

Some of the lines were interesting. Disturbing? Yeah, both. She wrote down a few quotes: maybe she could use them on Emily if the moment was ever right. 

It turned out though, that the whole school was doing her job for her. Emily’s ostracization lasted well past Halloween proper. Still in full effect even after thanksgiving. Of course, the gossip had moved on, but Monster Bait had made no further attempts at making friends, and Tara, Molly, and Jordan were long gone. 

Knowing someone else was miserable took the pressure off a little. Of course, there were still days- sometimes weeks- where she’d be lost again. Waking up tired before she could open her eyes, barely cognizant, never able to answer questions or hold conversations. 

On weeks like that, if she was with her mother she’d start a fight every day. Everything around her only irritated her, draining the pitiful amount of energy she had. So she’d lash out, unable to hold herself back. 

If she was with her father she’d cut up papers or boxes, sometimes even aluminium cans. Sometimes he’d punctuate the evenings by drawing attention to her dulled existence. Calling her stupid, lazy, boring, rude, or ungrateful. But not always, so that was a bonus. Most of the time, if she was with him in that state of barely existing, he’d just ignore her. 

Then she’d go to school and slip anonymous notes into Emily’s locker. Vague threats. Reminders that she didn’t belong there. That she didn’t belong anywhere. 

Writing the notes helped, but only a little. She’d pour out everything she didn’t even know she was feeling, twist it into a narrative of gore and horror, and shove it through the slats in Emily’s locker. She never saw Emily read them, but on the days she’d leave messages, Jade could see her looking anxiously around the cafeteria or playground. Trying to find which of her classmates was sending these letters.

If Jade learned anything from horror movies, it was that suspense was scarier than certainty. The possibility that anyone could be leaving horrible notes in her locker had driven Emily even further away, and by December, Jade rarely saw her outside of the cafeteria. 

December had its own set of issues. 

Jade had never cared about Christmas before. Not once. So the argument about where she spent the holiday was of little consequence to her. Still, it occupied most of her time as the question became inescapable, no matter who she was with.

She’d spent Thanksgiving with her mother, and her dad thought this meant she should be with him for Christmas. It was the logical move, and Jade didn’t care either way. 

The problem though was that Christmas was her mother’s favourite time of year. She’d bring down the box of decorations from the attic, always on December 1st, and blast nothing but Christmas music until January. 

By December 2nd, the house looked like it did every year. Fake snow hammered to the bannister, a tiny village on the bay window in the den. Paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, several of which Jade had cut herself. 

She remembered once, years ago when she was 4 or 5, her father had come home to the freshly decorated house. “It looks like the north pole threw up in here,” he’d said, and Jade had tried to ignore the way his comment made her mother slump over the slightest bit. 

They went back and forth for most of December, each of them trying to win her favour or, in her father’s case, talk down the other parent. “Does she still make the same shit cookies?” But eventually, he surrendered. 

When her mother brought her home on the 23rd, the only thing that was missing was the miniature nativity scene over the never-used gas fireplace. “What, no Jesus?” They weren’t a religious household, but the nativity was something her mother had done in her own childhood and setting it up always made her nostalgic- so she claimed. The nativity set was a staple. 

“No, Owen dropped one of the figures and now the Virgin Mary is headless. Not the sentiment I’m going for.”

“Can I have it?” 

“You- why?” 

Her response was a shrug, but seconds later her mother was fishing the figure out of the kitchen garbage. “Just be careful, the edges are sharp.”

“Mhm,” Jade took the headless Mary and examined it. A jagged cut, half the neck was intact, “must have been a brutal beheading.”

“You’re a weirdo,” her mother laughed and pulled her into a side hug, “never change that.” 

Jade was glad to be home, and the days before Christmas were spent listening to carols, licking cookie dough off a spoon, and watching her mother pretend they lived in another state that got snow. Or dropped below freezing.

On the morning of the 25th Jade watched her little brother open about 50 presents. Some from Santa, some from her (even though she’d not shopped for him), some from their mother, or Matt. Or Aunt Susan and Uncle Karl. Or Rudolph. Or Dasher. 

Jade unwrapped a few gifts that she didn’t really think about. Presents, in general, made her nervous. Buying them was impossible, so she never did. Not for anyone. There were times when she’d feel bad about this, but then she’d get worked up at every gift-giving holiday and decide it wasn’t worth the stress. 

Even receiving gifts was uncomfortable. Everyone watched while she opened them, waiting for the correct reaction. But she didn’t have to fake her smile when she opened an envelope containing a gift certificate for piano lessons. 

“Since you quit acting…” her mother had explained. 

Jade looked over the card, already trying to figure out how she could do this without telling her dad, wondering if it would qualify as a distraction or not. 

Classes or no, she still tried to learn. In the afternoon she brought Owen to the piano in the den, holding him on her lap, trying to teach him even though he could barely sit still or focus. Eventually, she gave up and placed his tiny hands in his lap so she could have free access to the keys. Her repertoire was limited, all just songs she’d meticulously worked out by ear, but she knew one Christmas carol, and played it much to her mother’s delight. 

“Stay there I need to film this!” 

Jade rolled her eyes but complied with her mother’s request. She even sang, and when Owen started clapping she just pulled him in closer. 

It took most of the evening for her to figure out she was happy. She willingly participated in family time that night, all four of them on the couch (Owen in Matt’s lap) watching A Christmas Carol. There were ghosts, so it was okay, even if a little cheesy at the end there. 

Scrooge’s change came way too late in the game for him to avoid his fate, she decided. For sure he was going to spend the rest of eternity chained by his greed. But hey, downer endings don’t make for good Christmas movies. 

Owen was fast asleep when the movie ended, snuggled into his dad whose free arm was draped around Jade and her mother. 

Ellen held her, playing with her hair. “I’m so happy you’re here.” Jade smiled up at her mother, sweet and nurturing regardless of her flaws, though right now those didn’t seem to matter.

Her dad used ‘pretty’ as an insult but it was accurate. Jade used to wish she’d wake up with her mother’s blonde hair or her deep green eyes. But then at around eight years old she’d started intentionally pulling away. It had taken a while, but she was slowly making her way back, “me too,” she wished she could stay a little longer, maybe freeze time. 

It was a childish wish, and her father was right on schedule, picked her up at 2 pm on Boxing Day.

There were more than a dozen gifts for her on the coffee table and if she didn’t know better, she might have thought he was nervous. Probably though, he was just trying to outdo her mother, as he’d done for her birthday. 

He’d bought her some exotic insects, new friends for Dexter, and he told her about each one of them with as much excitement as he was capable of. This meant he spoke in monotone with the barest hint of a smile and slightly raised eyebrows. A few books, some of which might be worth her time. But most of them were ones she’d read already or boring on sight. 

As she opened her last gift, he watched her with that stress-inducing bated breath. The one that told her she had to react a certain way. 

“Girls like jewellery,” he explained as she untied the white ribbon around the powder blue box. But he didn’t seem sure and he kept rubbing the back of his neck. The necklace was simple, just a chain with a stamped heart. “T-” and he cleared his throat, “Tiffany’s is a really nice brand? I-” 

“-Thanks.” No, she didn’t care for it, but she hid her disinterest as she carefully placed it back in its box. She’d seen a few younger actresses- like teens- wear this in the magazines that Alice and Megan always snuck into Geography so they could do the quizzes. 

“We can return it,” he offered but she shook her head. 

Maybe she could be the kind of girl that liked this stuff. Or at least she could pretend. For him. 

“And tomorrow we’ll go shopping,” he said hurriedly, “Wherever you want, whatever you want.” 

It almost made her laugh, how hard he seemed to be trying. But she certainly didn’t pass up his offer. It was fun, pointing to anything that caught her eye and owning it as soon as her dad flashed his card. 

***

In the new year, she started piano lessons. Every Saturday, oscillating between morning and afternoon so that she never had to tell her dad about it. Always at her mother’s house. 

Thomas, her teacher, was 60 or so, and very kind. He was patient, passionate, and extremely qualified. On their first lesson, he told her all about how he used to record for Hollywood in his earlier years before arthritis made complicated melodies too painful. He talked about how playing the piano set his soul free and asked Jade what drew her to the instrument. 

At first, she’d shrugged. But he asked again, “music….understands me.” 

He’d smiled at her, “then you’re going to be great at this.” 

As she suspected, her technique was all wrong. Thomas assured her that they could correct this, gave her exercises to try which weren’t as interesting as playing songs. Still, she’d come home from school and spend hours at the keyboard in her room, perfecting the exercises and learning new songs. 

When she stayed with her father, she’d do her best with just her fingers and the hard surface of her desk. Or she’d draw staff lines in her notebooks to write out the songs she was supposed to learn. They were never full lines though, having to find space for them between her drawings and lines of songs that she was starting to learn how to put to music. 

But it wasn’t the same as practising on the keyboard. The lessons she’d have after weeks with her dad were always less successful than those with her mother. Thomas must have noticed, but he rarely said anything.

He didn’t need to. The frustration she felt when she’d sit down at the keyboard and have to re-acquaint herself with the keys was insurmountable. 

“Why don’t you bring your keyboard to your dad’s?” her mother suggested one Saturday morning in February. 

But she wasn’t sure she could. The number of lies she’d told just to subdue her father meant that he thought she was focused and driven. It wasn’t an image she was willing to jeopardize. She didn’t know what would happen. Usually, she shouldered her father’s pressure with grace, but it weighed on her so heavily that sometimes, she cracked.

Rather than admit this, Jade started screaming. Claiming she never asked for piano lessons in the first place, and if anyone ever bothered to listen to her, she wouldn’t have to keep pretending to like things. 

“But you-”

“You keep trying to make me something I’m not!” Jade was the first to start yelling this time. It was everything she wished she could say to her dad, and the only reason she was so vocal now was that she knew her mother wouldn’t stop loving her. 

So she screamed out all her rage, maintaining that her mother was the problem, piano was the problem. Not her, and certainly not her father, “I just want to quit!” But she wasn’t sure what she was even saying. Just kept digging herself into a deeper hole so it was impossible to get out, and her mother cancelled the lessons. 

When she’d gone back to school in January, Jade hadn’t felt the need to update how she was harassing Emily. The mysterious notes in the girl’s locker were enough, even if she wasn’t seeing the reaction. Sometimes, she’d let weeks go by without a haunting letter. 

For two months, she was fine. Not happy, but not in that awful dazed state either. It was a neutral sort of emotion, but when she quit piano, she fell again. Harder and lower than she even thought was possible.

When she woke up at her father’s on Sunday morning, her eyes stung with the realization that she had to be alive that day. She didn’t have it in her to cry though. So she just lay there until he knocked on her door at noon, asking her whether she was going to get up or if she was “just going to be useless all day?”

She left three notes in Emily’s locker that week. On Monday, a letter explaining that she was useless and pathetic and no one was ever going to care about her. On Wednesday, a detailed illustration of Emily being hit by a train. On Thursday, another note letting her know she was weak and destined for failure. 

It didn’t help though. When her mother picked her up on Saturday, Jade spent the entire car ride nitpicking at all the minutiae that pierced through her. The music. The conversation. The air freshener. The harsh movements of the car while her mother responded to traffic “do you even know how to drive?” 

Her keyboard was tucked away in the far corner of her room, but she didn’t want to play it. What’s the point? She was useless and stupid and piano wasn’t going to change that. Nothing would. 

But she could make someone feel even worse, so on Monday, she slipped another note in Emily’s locker. It was explicit: a long-winded explanation of where, when, and how the girl should expect to die, doodles of decapitations and bloody knives. 

She looked for Emily at recess, weaving through groups of friends with a stealth that made her nearly invisible, but Emily wasn’t on the playground. 

Moving inside, Jade combed the halls and empty rooms, looking for any trace of Monster Bait, finally catching a glimpse of a perfect golden braid in the library. 

Emily looked like hell. Her face was stark white and she was jumping at even the tiniest squeak of a chair. Jade had to be extra cautious in her approach, deciding to move around and sneak up from behind. Sure to take slow and quiet steps, she made her way over to the table where Emily sat, obsessively reading over a piece of paper. 

She didn’t look up as Jade approached, “Boo,” she whispered. 

Emily jumped forcefully enough that her chair shot back. When she saw Jade, her expression shifted from shock to horror. “I-” she looked down at the note and back up, “I knew it.” 

“Knew what?” 

“That you’re the one who’s been sending me…” she swallowed hard, “those notes.”

Jade tilted her head to the side in mock confusion, “What notes?” 

“Don’t!” Emily insisted, loud enough that the librarian turned to them scowling. 

“Shh,” jade leaned against the table so she and Emily were face to face, “Don’t you know libraries are supposed to be quiet?” 

“You-” but Emily closed her mouth again. She tried several more times to say something, but cut herself off each time.

“Take your time. I know how hard it is for you to think.”

Jade smiled at Emily’s quivering lip and left while she still had the upper hand. 

No, it didn’t make her feel better. But it had to, it always had before. Emily was her last resort and she wasn’t ready to give up yet. 

Over the next two weeks, she tried different approaches and Emily didn’t get a single break. Off the cuff, tic-tac sized insults muttered when they crossed each other in the hallway. More complicated schemes involving more gossip. Sometimes, even just menacing glares. Any reaction that might make her feel even a little bit better. 

Or, maybe not better, but at least different. The monotony of the brain fog and exhaustion blurred the world around her, and if she could feel some other way…. 

Jade tried to see if she could get Emily angry, hoping that maybe what she needed was a fight. But nothing ever worked. So she tried harder. 

The first week of April she spent with her dad. She’d been exhausted for a month. 

That exhaustion, and the fog and the heaviness all manifested into millions of tiny mistakes when she did homework. It was worse when he watched her, “Wow Ellen,” his laugh was cold and mirthless, “that’s not how you spell that.” 

But she didn’t move to fix it. She was zoned out.

“Jesus, are you stupid?”

Maybe. 

“Fix it,” he insisted, and it was enough that she dragged her eraser across the wrong word, “wow, slow tonight huh?” 

It wasn’t that his comments didn’t make her angry. They did. But she was so twisted inside that by the time she finally felt the heat of emotion coming back to her body, her brain would catch up to remind her that she couldn’t start a fight with him. 

She tossed around on her mattress for a few minutes, her father's words sinking into her. 

But she could fix it. Try harder. Be better.

Make Emily weaker. 

The plan came to her just seconds before she fell asleep. 

Her classmates participated, but only because they had no idea what it was for. She only collected about 20 names but it took her two days. 20 Signatures for her petition (she’d told each of the students that it was a petition to go homework free, but once she had the names she was able to re-title the document). 

On Wednesday morning, she taped it to Emily’s locker door. 

Jade leaned against the opposite wall and waited. Before the first bell, most kids could be found outside. But Jade knew that Emily spent most of her time inside; she would see this list before the halls got too crowded. 

“Emily Parker is a Worthless Nobody” that was the title of the petition. 

She hoped it wasn’t so over the top that it had the opposite effect, but she knew that was a possibility. 8:38, twenty-two minutes until school started, but Jade had seen Emily arrive early before. 

If this didn’t work, maybe nothing would. 

8:40. 

Twenty minutes. What if Monster Bait was late? Or what if she was outside? Then the petition would be seen by the wrong people. Maybe she should take it down before she got in trouble. 

8:43, seventeen minutes. There was an echo of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor, and Jade retreated to hide in an open classroom.

Emily tore the petition off so forcefully that the page ripped, a small corner still taped to the door. She wasted no time before running into the nearest restroom, presumably to cry. Pathetic. 

Jade followed her, hearing sobs as soon as she pushed open the door. As she’d predicted, the restroom was empty. They were alone. 

“Did you see?” she asked, causing Emily to take in a sharp breath, “Gosh I didn’t think that many people…”

“Go away, Jade!”

“Hey, I’m just trying to get to the bottom of this. Who would do such a thing?” 

The door to the last stall flung open and Emily came out to face her, “I KNOW it was you!” 

“What? You think I’m the only one who hates you? You’re more full of yourself than I thought.” 

Emily took several shaky breaths and wiped her tears. Then her expression changed as she squared her shoulders and looked Jade dead in the eye, “why are you so mean?” she demanded. 

Jade suppressed her smile, they were on the verge of a fight. She knew all of Emily’s buttons and could press them at will, she was confident she could say the right things to bring the blonde even lower than she already was. “I’m sick of you thinking you’re so special.”

“I think you’re jealous,” Emily shot back and Jade scoffed. 

“Of what?” 

“Nobody likes you. I know you don’t have any friends, and honestly?” she shifted on her feet, still unsure of her new bold approach, “I can see why. No one wants you around, so you take it out on me,” there was a finality to Emily’s voice, like she’d thought about this.

The accuracy is what hurt the most. Jade hadn’t considered the possibility that anyone, let alone Emily, could see through her facade. She was at a loss for words, trying to find a way to regain the upper hand. 

“It’s pathetic,” Emily said. 

Jade snapped out of her shock and regained her composure, “what’s pathetic is your weak attempt to stand up to me,” she hoped her lapse hadn’t been long enough to be noticeable. Hoped the recovery was smooth, “seriously, is that all you got?” 

Emily opened and closed her mouth, searching for her rebuttal. 

“That’s what I thought,” Jade took two steps toward her and smiled when the blonde moved away, “I’m not tragic. There’s nothing wrong with me,” she practically whispered, “My problem with you is about you.” 

Emily started shaking, close to tears again. 

“You don’t need to believe me, but I would if I were you,” she switched her voice back to the conversational tone she used for her most hurtful words, “The sooner you realize everyone hates you, the sooner you can do the right thing and just disappear,” Jade turned to leave, not even facing Emily, “Not like anyone would care,” she called out as she kept walking away. 

She didn’t look back.   
___________________

https://www.stompoutbullying.org/helpchat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, leave a comment about this disaster child, and Emily who ABSOLUTELY doesn't deserve this. 
> 
> -Trashdove.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *TW: see endnotes (mental health)  
> Sorry that this is as late as it is. The second half of the chapter has been done for months, but I kept reworking the first half, especially within the last week. Here is part two of the two-part chapter, and I hope you like it!

Emily didn’t come to school on Thursday.

Or Friday.

Jade just figured that MonsterBait was too weak to put up with a little joke and had to stay home to cry about it. Which was pathetic, and absolutely not her problem. It didn’t matter to her at all whether or not Emily was crying or if she’d actually been stupid enough to take anything Jade had said seriously. Guilt was not an emotion she was well acquainted with, every time she’d come close to it, Jade tried to cover it up with something else. Either a new emotion entirely, or with a well-rehearsed mantra that nothing was her fault. 

In fact, why was she even considering that this was something to be guilty about? She’d experimented to see if she could feel better or different and it finally worked. Emily’s two-day absence served as a bold reminder that she could still make parts of the world cower around her. She wasn’t all gone, not yet. That alone made her feel better. For the first time in weeks, she had enough brainpower to sketch in her notebook. Her mind wandered as she scratched her pen across the page, absentmindedly watching her picture take form. 

It was a boy. His face contorted into a scream of terror, one of his eyeballs hanging from its socket and a deep cut across his cheek. He wasn’t a zombie, he was alive. She continued her sketch, trying to picture the world around him and what monster could have possibly done this to him. 

A faceless figure. Tall. Slim. With nails like knives and a voice that echoed from apparently nowhere. But he had a mouth. 

She flipped the page over to draw this new monster. His mouth, normally absent, slit open into a grin that stretched to either side of his head. His teeth were like blades on a shredder, but he could keep a soul intact so they’d be trapped in his body forever. 

But his body wasn’t really a body, not when you got shredded and swallowed. It was a labyrinth. And all the shredded souls could choose their finality if they found their way to the centre. After a hundred years, people would get so bored of existing that they’d venture through the maze, but none had succeeded yet. 

The boy had managed to escape, his soul intact, and now he had to decide if he wanted to keep running or face the monster, risking the destruction of his body and imprisonment of his soul. 

If it hadn’t been midnight, Jade would have spent the next few hours planning out this new idea. But instead, she fell asleep at her desk. 

It was the best sleep she’d had since Christmas. 

When her mother picked her up on Saturday afternoon, Jade had three more monster sketches and a list of ideas to develop a story. The boy was going to defeat the monster, but not before the trapped souls reached the middle of the labyrinth and dissipated into nothingness. 

Acts of heroism, Jade thought, were only worth celebrating when successful. Any other time, they were just stupid. The boy wasn’t a hero, he was an idiot. If he had any sense about him, he’d have marched into a hospital and never thought about the monster again. Look out for himself. No one else would. The souls trapped inside weren’t his problem to begin with. 

Later that evening, she snuck up to her brother’s room. He woke at the sound of the door, “ma?”

“No, stupid,” she smiled at him, he was standing in his crib, hands on the top bar. 

“Jay!” 

“Shhh,” she sat down on the floor and pulled out her pictures, “you want a story?” 

“Duk!” he pointed to the book still on the table underneath the lamp. 

The Ugly Duckling. It was Owen’s favourite, her mother read it to him at least twice a day. Jade fought the urge to roll her eyes, “No. a different one.” 

Whenever she had a new story, he was the first to hear. Owen, one week away from his second birthday, was too young to judge. It never occurred to her that the stories might scare him; he didn’t really speak English well enough to understand them. 

She hadn’t written anything, but she knew the plot points well enough and weaved them together, occasionally adding the pictures. He clapped at the drawings, recently he’d discovered the new ability to drag crayons across blank paper to create “art”. Just scribbles, but he’d given one to her a week ago that was blue and orange, and apparently, it was supposed to be a picture of her. It was folded tucked away safely inside one of her thicker books. 

“The monster burst into shadows, but the souls inside were…” but she looked at her little brother, not even two, eyelids heavy with sleep, and she didn’t want him to lose whatever sense of optimism he still had. She didn’t believe in heroes, but maybe he should? “...totally fine. And they all, uh, like gave him high fives,” thinking on the spot wasn’t her strong suit, not when she hadn’t planned to do so, “yay.” 

Owens' blinks were slow, close to sleep, so she kept talking. “And they all…” Jade sighed as she thought of the perfect ending for Owen’s story, “went to a duck pond…” she said as if it killed her. Because it did a little, but she looked over and he was asleep again. “Goodnight, stupid.” 

Sunday was spent running errands with her mother. They were getting everything organized for Owen’s birthday on Friday, and Ellen was insistent that Jade buy him a present. 

“He’s two. He doesn’t even want anything,” she argued.

“Yeah, but you’re his big sister. It doesn’t matter what you get him,” they were looking through a clothing store where everything was miniature, separated by pink and blue, and inexplicably covered in dinosaurs.

“If it really doesn’t matter what I get him, can I get him a shrunken head?” 

Ellen laughed and shook her head, “I guess it matters a little,” she arched an eyebrow and turned to browse through the t-shirt, “oh, this one’s cute!”

It was blue and covered, completely covered, in ducks, “no.” 

“Come on, he loves ducks,” and she added it to the basket, “if you can make a monster story end in a duck pond, you can tolerate an adorable t-shirt,” she walked down the aisle, now rifling through sweaters. 

Jade stopped in her tracks, letting the implications of that comment sink in, “you know about that?” 

Ellen turned to her with a smile spread across her face, “His room is across the hall. Matt and I listened to the whole thing,” she explained, “It was so cute!”

Jade rolled her eyes, though she was smiling too.

“No, it was,” she insisted “Somebody loves her baby brother,” she said in a singsong voice. 

Jade exaggerated her sigh, “Oh my god.”

“Reading him ducky stories…”

“I’m leaving.”

But her mother just laughed and pulled her back, swaying a little, “ah, I’m just kidding. Don’t worry, I won’t accuse you of loving him ever again.” 

“Good,” Jade wiggled out of the embrace, still smiling. There were a few toys and books in the store as well, and she looked over them to see if she could find anything he might like. 

The stuffed animal collection was massive, but her attention was diverted by a stuffed spider in the corner. Fairly large, still too cute, but at least it was more interesting than a dog. She picked it up and brought it over to her mother who was picking out tiny shoes. 

“This?” 

Ellen looked at the spider in Jade’s hands, “sure. It’s not any creepier than a monster with no face.”

“It’s just a spider,” she shrugged, placing it on the duck t-shirt in the basket.

“You know Matt is terrified of spiders, right?” 

“Even better.” 

After that, they got smoothies and took Mullholland out of the city, just for the view. Ellen blared her top 40s tunes, but Jade found she didn’t mind it as much as she usually did. Her mother interrupted the songs every now and then to talk about Jade’s early childhood. 

“-and you used to make him sit down and watch your little shows...you don’t remember?” Ellen finished telling her about the sock puppet shows she apparently used to put on in the living room. 

Jade was mortified. The idea that she had ever been a ‘normal’ kid bothered her in a way she couldn’t really understand, but hearing her mother talk about it stirred up the memory. “No, I don’t remember.”

“They were always really goofy, but complicated. There was this one...gosh so long ago… uhm, about a king named-”

“-Pants,” the response was unintentional, seemingly triggered by muscle memory and she winced as she said it out loud. 

Ellen laughed, “yes! King Pants!” she looked over, catching Jade’s blush, “oh, cut yourself a break you were maybe three years old.” 

The rest of the drive was spent reliving the glory of King Pants and his many misfortunes. He consistently failed his kingdom in every way possible due to his own incompetence. He had one superpower, like king Midas except the gold was just shiny plastic. He couldn't tell the difference. 

Before they could even open the door to the house, Jade could hear classic rock blaring from inside. 

Owen was stomping on the spot, mostly in rhythm. Matt was bobbing his head and playing air guitar. 

Family dance time lasted for an hour and a half until her mother left to make dinner and Matt put Owen down for a nap. Jade retreated to her room and revisited her outline for the story of the idiot boy and his stupid heroics. 

Another wonderful night of sleep. Well rested, alive enough to make people cower- and still, on Monday morning she could barely wake up. 

It was different when she’d had a rough night before, or day or week, but this came after three relatively positive days and Jade’s eyes pricked with frustrated tears that she had to deal with this feeling again. After everything. 

At least she had a reliable outlet. She spent breakfast pushing food around on her plate and brainstorming different ways to scare or upset Emily later at school. 

But Emily wasn’t at school. Still, even four days after the fake petition. Not on Tuesday either, or Wednesday; she’d missed a full week and Jade was starting to worry she’d have to find a new way to sort out whatever feeling she didn’t want to deal with. She spent the entire evening in her room on Wednesday, refusing to eat dinner and yelling at her mother when she tried to bring some down. 

“Sweetie, we’re worried about you,” Ellen tried to explain.

But Jade could hardly put a thought together, and the last thing she needed now was someone breathing down her neck without solving her problem, “I’m FINE!”

“You’re not fine, Jade. I know you and this isn’t-”

“-you don’t know shit!” it was something her dad said to her a few weeks ago when she’d insisted she knew the answer to a question but was wrong. At the time, it tore her apart and she only hoped it would hurt her mother enough that she’d be left alone. 

The response wasn’t immediate. Ellen just walked across the room and knelt in front of her, placing a hand on each of Jade’s shoulders but she shrugged them off, but her mother was persistent. A hand now on either side of Jade’s face, she knelt down so they were eye to eye, “talk to me,” she pleaded, “he isn’t here right now, it’s okay.” 

But Jade thought that completely missed the point. This wasn’t her dad’s fault, and she wasn’t afraid of him. Why did no one understand that she just…

...Wanted to sleep. All the time. Being awake made her want to scream, and nothing made that go away except knowing she was still strong enough to make other people feel equally helpless. 

***  
It happened on Thursday, about halfway through second period. 

“Jade West, to the office, please. Jade West, office.” Her heart sank into her stomach, she knew instinctively that this had something to do with Emily. 

There was a round of scandalized “ooooh”s from the class as she slid out of her desk and left the classroom. The office was only a minute walk away, but Jade could feel hours passing with each footstep she took.

She was instructed to wait on one of the plastic chairs. There were three other kids already there: a boy she recognised who was always in trouble, a girl who was waiting to be signed in late, and another boy who was pinching the bridge of his bleeding nose. 

She sat perfectly still, afraid to move even the slightest bit while her mind reeled with possibilities. Desperate, she tried to think of as many solutions as possible, but she didn’t know the details of the situation, maybe this wasn’t about Emily at all. She could play it stupid. Lie? Beg? 

Her heart rose into her throat where she could feel it choking her, beating so hard that there was scarcely any room for air in her lungs. Rather than break in front of all these people, she pinched the skin on her forearm. It was a tangible experience that drew her focus away from her racing thoughts. When the pain began to subside, she started losing control of her mind again, so she pinched in the same spot, only harder. 

The vice-principal came out for the boy who was always in trouble. The girl who was late was long gone by now. The boy with the nosebleed left after ten minutes. Jade kept up the cycle of pinching to numb her brain, the pain ebbing away, her mind racing again, and back to pinching. 

She kept it up for half an hour until the principal stepped out. Mr Langlan. He looked even older up close like she could blow on him and he’d crumble to dust. But when he beckoned her into his office, she was the one who was trembling. Even if no one else could see. 

The first thing she noticed was the police officers in the corner and she wondered if this was about the last time she’d stolen something, but then she saw a woman sitting on the furthest of three chairs opposite Mr Langlan’s desk.

She might as well have been looking at Emily but thirty years in the future. They shared all the same features, shining blue eyes, angular face, petite frame. Hell, even perfect blonde braids, though Emily wasn’t there to make a direct comparison. 

“Jade, take a seat,” Mr Langlan gestured to the chair closest to the door, leaving a single seat between her and Emily’s mother who looked like she was ready to lunge, “Mrs Parker, you’re free to go. Thank you for coming in today.”

“Oh, no,” Mrs Parker shook her head and glared at Jade, “I’m not going anywhere until I know what you’re doing with her,” there was such hate in her voice as she pointed at Jade. 

“I assure you, once we reach a decision, you’ll be the first to know,” his voice was levelled and calm. He’d been around for centuries, he’d done this before. 

Jade kept her gaze focused on the carpet in front of her, desperately trying to not let her mind run too fast.

“A decision?” Mrs Parker asked, incredulous, “this little….monster-”

“-I understand you’re upset, Mrs Parker, but I’ll ask that you not insult one of my students. If you want to wait, you’re free to sit in the chairs outside my office.”

Reluctantly, she stood up, giving Jade one last death glare before she left the room. 

“I’m assuming you know why you were called down today?”

Still not looking up, Jade nodded. She hoped that if she didn’t look at him, this wouldn’t be real. That silence and lack of interaction were the only things that kept the situation bearable. 

“I see,” he stood up and moved towards the door, “I’m going to take Mrs Parker to the staff room for some coffee. When your mother gets here, we’ll go over the details. I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”

Jade struggled to keep her composure in front of the officers, but it was nearly impossible to play it cool when she knew she was in so much trouble. Would they suspend her? Expel her? Why were the police there, was she going to be arrested? 

Her first thought was that her dad was going to kill her. 

This would just be the last in a series of mistakes that he’d never forgive her for. She could hear him now, “what the hell is wrong with you?” and maybe he had a point. “You’re useless all the time but you have it in you to do shit like this? Jesus.” And he’d be right, too. 

She knew she was basically a shell of what she used to be. She didn’t know how it happened, or when the transformation had been complete, only that it was gradual. There was nothing inside of her anymore, and she was desperately grasping at the lowest hanging strings, hoping that one of them might bring her back. She felt it when she woke up, when she went through her day, even when she tricked herself into thinking she was happy. 

The one saving grace in all this was that Mr Langlan had called her mother and not her father. She wouldn’t have to see the disappointed look on his face, and instead of an in-person rejection, he’d probably just never speak to her again. 

One of the officers cleared his throat, and Jade was pulled out of her thoughts, back into the present. But the presence of the officers only created more questions. Was what she said really that bad? How could it be? All it was was that Emily was a stupid, ugly, pathetic, worthless failure. It was her whole self-image. 

The only difference was that Emily was weak on top of all that, and Jade wasn’t. She might be all those other things, but at least she was strong. Strong enough to deal with her parents' fights, her dad’s abandonment, his countless insults. Strong enough to deal with whatever happened next. 

That’s right. It didn’t matter what happened. She’s Jade West, and she’s tough enough to face anything and come out on top. One way or another. When she thought about it that way, the situation became nearly laughable. 

They were going to try and punish her, really? What could they do? 

Her mood had entirely shifted when Mr Langlan returned ten minutes later, Ellen trailing behind him. She took the seat next to Jade, and once Mr Langlan was sitting behind his desk, he cleared his throat.

“Mrs West-”

“-Cooper,” Ellen was quick to correct him. 

“Sorry, Mrs Cooper,” he nodded at her before he picked up again, “thank you for coming in on such short notice. As I’m sure you can understand we are eager to put this issue behind us,” his gaze settled on Jade, “Jade, have you met our district’s liaison officer?” he gestured towards the police in the corner. She shook her head. “Officer Kipling,” the older of the two nodded, and now that she was looking at him, Jade thought he looked vaguely familiar. “And his partner Officer…”

“Waldon, sir.” 

“Yes. Now, do you have any idea why they’ve been called here today?”

It was a complicated question. She knew why she was in trouble but still couldn’t fathom why the police were involved. She shook her head. 

Beside her, Ellen let out a heavy sigh, “Jade, just....answer him.”

Without looking up from the carpet, she responded, “no. I don’t know why they’re here.” 

“On Tuesday, I got a call from Mrs Parker. Emily’s mother. Do you have any idea what it might have been about?” 

Jade’s heart smashed against her ribcage, but she kept a steely exterior and took a sharp inhale of breath, “nope.” 

“But you know why I called you down today?” 

She kept staring at the floor. 

“Alright, I’ll start,” Mr Langlan was neither accusatory nor sympathetic. He was completely neutral, “Mrs Parker was telling me about how her daughter, my student, had just been-”

“-don’t,” Ellen cut in. Her eyebrows were stitched together as she pleaded with him silently.

Mr Langlan gave her a pointed expression before turning back to Jade. “Mrs Parker was telling me that her daughter had just been released from a seventy-two-hour watch at CHLA,” the children’s hospital, “something we are all grateful for,” he was sombre as he said this, but perked up a little when he waved Officer Kipling over. 

Kipling cleared his throat for the second time that afternoon, “Mrs Parker says that you’d been picking on her? Harassing her at school?”

When her silence stretched on too long, Mr Langlan spoke up, “I’m sure you know that this is very serious, Jade.”

Officer Waldon placed a file in Kipling’s outstretched hand, “We have photocopies here. Of letters that Emily claims you left in her locker,” he explained, “do you recognize these?” 

She remembered now where she’d seen Kipling before. He’d given an assembly about cyberbullying. He told them to never delete messages, that they could be used as proof. At the time, she’d passed it off as another tip she’d never used, but ignoring it had been her fatal flaw. There was now physical proof against her, “Yes,” she could hardly hear her own voice, but there was no point in denying it. 

“Did you write these?” 

“Yes.” 

The letter on top of the file was one she’d written in November. It just said “die” over and over again with a doodle of Emily lying, lifeless, in a pool of blood. 

They pulled out several more notes, some of them were graphic, some of them, fairly tame. Jade watched as her mother looked over them, a look of horror slowly spreading across her face. 

“According to Mrs Parker and her daughter, this has been going on for a long time,” Officer Kipling tucked the notes back into the folder and handed them to Waldon. “That’s why we’re here today. Mr Langlan only has authority over what happened in his own school, but the full case is bigger than that...” 

Jade wondered if there was any point in trying to wiggle out of all the incidents from elementary school. Those had all been verbal attacks and social manipulation. No notes, no proof. 

But why? At this point, denying anything would just make it look like she had anything to be ashamed about when she didn’t. She’d written those notes, she’d said those things, taken Emily’s friends, ostracized her. It was all true, but that didn’t mean she was responsible for anything that Emily felt. Or did.

The conversation continued, but they were no longer asking her any questions. Twice, her mother jumped in with an apology and a sigh, but nothing that indicated she had to pay attention to what was being said. 

The clock on the wall told her it was almost recess, though the window below it looked out onto the road instead of the playground. She strained her eyes to look across the street as if the row of small bungalows were the most interesting thing in the world. Every now and then the steady stream of cars would be spruced up by a bus or a cyclist, but mostly it was just regular traffic. 

If she counted the cars she could almost forget where she was. 

“Jade, do you have anything to say for yourself?” 

She snapped her attention to Mr Langlan who was looking at her expectantly. It was her chance to defend herself, present her side of the story. But did it matter? It wouldn’t make a difference if she tried to explain; MonsterBait sent herself to the hospital, so everyone was on her side. She wasn’t going to apologize either, “no.”

“I see,” the whole room sighed with disappointment but no one as loudly as her mother. Mr Langlan continued, “I’m afraid we enforce a zero-tolerance policy towards bullying. Especially in cases where one student makes an attempt at her own life,” he turned to Jade again, “I hope you know how serious this is.”

She let the words wash over her, knowing if she gave too much power to the situation, she would break immediately. But she nodded like she was supposed to. 

Mr Langlan said a few more words to her mother, Officers Kipling and Waldon gave her a lecture about harassment, and then she was expelled. 

As she made her way out of the office after what had to have been hours of talking, she saw Mrs Parker waiting on the plastic chairs. She slumped away from the woman, averting her eyes immediately, but Mrs Parker strode up to her eyes narrowed. 

Ellen stepped in between them swiftly putting Jade behind her, but Mrs Parker was flaring. “Well?” she demanded.

Mr Langlan appeared in the doorway to his office, “Mrs Parker, come in. I’ll let you know.” 

“No, I want to hear it from her. I-”

“Mrs Parker, Nancy, can I call you Nancy?” Ellen still held Jade by her shoulder but was trying to cut the tension. 

“No.”

Ellen nodded, “Mrs Parker, I am so sorry for what your family is going through right now. I- I can’t imagine-” 

“-I’m not interested in your apology!”

“I’m more than happy to cover any and all expenses from Emily’s visit, and if there’s anything going forward...well, whatever you need. Please.” 

“Nuh-uh, you are not going to buy off her guilt,” she jabbed a finger at Jade who was still pressed into her mother’s back.

“Mrs Parker, come,” Mr Langlan waved his arm into his office, “Let’s discuss what you want to do with Emily in terms of schoolwork.” Emily’s mother glared at Jade one final time before slipping into the principal’s office. 

Ellen moved away from Jade and made her way to the door. “Come on,” she said, voice low and stiff, “let’s clear out your locker then.” 

It was an easy job. She shoved her gym clothes into the bottom of her bag and wrapped her sweater from the morning around her shoulders. There were a few loose papers that had accumulated at the bottom: assignments she didn’t have to write. Her backpack was heavy from the weight of the books she sometimes left there overnight, all the binders for classes she’d never attend again. 

Easy, but humiliating. She was only halfway done when the bell rang, signalling the end of 6th period, and the hallway flooded with students. A few people stopped to look but mostly they brushed right by to make it to their next class. But it didn’t matter if they looked or not, they weren’t her peers anymore. She didn’t go to school here. 

How would she finish sixth grade? Her dad would be livid when he found out she’d messed it up so close to the end of term. “You only had two more months, you couldn’t do that?” Or, at least, she guessed that’s what he’d say. It’s how he talked to her when she’d make mistakes in homework or on tests. 

Her mother didn’t reach for the radio when they got in the car. Didn’t look over at her once the whole drive home. She just stared at the road, jaw set. 

This suited Jade just fine. The quiet gave her time to prepare for all the things that could go wrong when her dad found out she’d been expelled. If he spoke to her at all. It was possible, and not outside the realm of possibilities, that he would disappear again. Saturday would come and instead of picking her up, he’d just let her sit there. 

Or maybe he would come, and spend the whole ride berating her for every mistake she ever made, which now included expulsion. Maybe he’d compare her to her mother, call her stupid. Again. 

Either way, he was probably done with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *TW: mentioned attempted suicide. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading,
> 
> Trashdove


	23. Chapter 23

When they got home, Ellen went straight upstairs without a single word. Any other day, Jade would have loved the alone time. But after spending all morning and part of the afternoon being told how horrible she was, she couldn’t do anything except wonder if they were right. 

She lay flat on her bed, staring at the ceiling, one of her CD’s blaring in the player. The hope was that the sound would drive out all the thoughts in her head but it wasn’t working. 

How could she forget the way Emily’s mother looked at her? Like she was worse than all the things she’d ever thought about herself. Jade had always been preoccupied in her imagination that she never considered that she was worse than even the most terrifying monster she’d drawn. At least, that’s what Mrs Parker probably thought, and Emily. Maybe even everyone who saw her notes, everyone in Mr Langlan’s office. 

Officers Kipling and Waldon took the extra effort to remind her that words that have power, and she needed to be sure to use them carefully. In the ‘real world,’ her actions would have consequences. 

Which was funny, because if that were true, why did her dad get to walk in and out of her life and talk to her however he wanted? Where were his consequences? Or, frankly, her mother’s? She remembered the nights where they used to just hit each other, throw things at the walls. Why were there no consequences for that? 

This was barely on the same level, and the only reason anyone noticed it at all was that Emily decided to chicken out. 

MonsterBait was getting just a glimpse of every second of Jade’s inner world, and she couldn’t take it. And the adults thought it was bad enough that it made her a monster. Mrs Parker’s words. 

Was...was it really that bad? Jade took for granted that this was how she felt, how she thought, it was normal. Everyone was buggin’ out over something completely normal. 

Unless it wasn’t. But she’d never considered that before. It had been her reality for a long time, it was her whole identity. She was angry and bitter. Bold, manipulative, creative, dark, twisted. But she didn’t know that any of it was wrong enough that Emily would actually do anything. Should she be afraid too? The police, the expulsion, the way Mrs Parler looked at her like she was a bug. The whole time, Mr Langlan kept repeating that this was “very serious”. 

She’d always done everything imaginable to try and convince herself that what she was feeling was fine. But the reality of that morning seemed to prove otherwise, and even though Jade loved her alone time, she just wanted someone there who wasn’t afraid of her. Because she wasn’t sure if she should be scared too. Anyone who could look at her and let her know that, despite this, she was safe, and she was going to be okay. 

But she was alone, and as the hours slugged by, she could feel herself shaking. At six, her mother told her that dinner was ready. She didn’t come up. Five minutes later there was a knock at the door.

“Yeah?”

After she opened it, Ellen leaned against the doorframe, not entering the room. “Dinner’s ready,” her voice was quiet and tentative, but Jade couldn’t figure out what she was holding back. That made it worse. Most of the time, she could read straight through people, she knew if a fight was coming in one look. But at the moment, all she knew was that her mother was intentionally avoiding the expulsion. 

There was tension hanging in the air, and even though she wanted to run straight into her mother’s arms, Jade just shrugged, “not hungry.”

“Well, you have to eat. So, come on.” still quiet. Still holding something back. 

Any other night, this would be a fight. Ellen would return with a plate and then they’d scream at each other. She expected it, she was prepared for it. She hoped that in that fight she could get her mother to say whatever it was that she was holding back. “I’m not hungry,” she repeated forcefully. 

She wasn’t prepared for her mother’s response. Just a simple sigh, “fine.” and she left. 

Jade was alone again, shrinking as the evening went on with still no word from her mother.

At nine, there was a small knock at her door, but it opened right away. 

Her mother came in with a plate of pizza, just two slices. Plain cheese because it was easier to pick off that way. “So, obviously we need to talk about today.” She put the plate on Jade’s desk and turned off the CD player. “Care to explain?” 

The tension from before was worse, and rather than dare to be vulnerable, Jade worked on her defence. “Not really, no.” 

A mirthless laugh. Just one. “Try again.” Ellen didn’t sound like herself. Or at least, not a version of herself that existed in the past three years. 

So Jade got colder. “Don’t feel like it,” she stood up, walked across the room, right past her mother, and turned on her CD player. It was a power move, trying to shut her mother out by completely ignoring the conversation. 

“That’s too bad because we need to have this talk,” Ellen unplugged the player and held the cord out of reach when Jade moved to grab it. “What happened today was completely-”

“-yeah, no I got it. Don’t worry won’t happen again,” she rolled her eyes and flopped on her bed, deliberately looking away from her mother. “Thanks for the talk. Really.” 

“I-” Ellen started but stopped herself and took a deep breath before she continued. “I’m giving you a chance to talk to me.” her words were deliberate, but Jade could tell she was still holding back. 

Until she knew what Ellen wasn’t saying, Jade had no interest in participating in the argument. Whatever unspoken words that were tensing up the air would have to be said before Jade took this conversation seriously. “The weather today was nice. Bit chilly for this time of year, at least, that’s what it said on the radio.” 

“This isn’t funny, Jade!” It was intense, not yelling, but forceful. “Okay? So smarten up and just talk to me.” 

Silence. She even rolled away so her back was turned to Ellen, making it clear that she had no intention of speaking. 

“Look,” Ellen sat beside her on the bed, quiet now and softening. She reached a hand out to smooth over Jade’s hair while she lay there. “I know it hasn’t...I know things have been hard lately. But it’s like I don’t even recognise you right now,” she sounded so far away, voice pleading. 

“I mean those notes…” Jade tilted her head so she could see her mother from the corner of her eyes. Ellen shook her head in disbelief, eyes focused as if trying to find her next words, “I knew something was wrong but I never…”

At that, Jade swatted her mother’s hand away from her head. Her resolve to stay quiet was gone in the need to defend herself, “Nothing’s wrong,” she insisted.

Ellen looked shocked for a moment, then just blinked. “Are you kidding me? Did I imagine the entire morning?”

Jade shrugged, “Maybe.” 

“Because here’s what I think happened. Tell me where I’m wrong,” the softness was still there, but now with a hint of a challenge. “I get to the school, meet up with your principal and Mrs Parker who’s practically losing her mind because her daughter was in the hospital. The HOSPITAL, Jade,” Ellen tried to emphasise the seriousness of the situation, but there was no need. “ And you know what? I STILL tried to defend you. Told her this had to be a misunderstanding...”

Jade shifted her eyes away, shrinking even more as her mother spoke. Maybe she’d get so small she’d disappear, wouldn’t that be great? Then she wouldn’t have to keep listening to her mother lay out the humiliating events of the day. 

“...I mean, ‘die die die?’ ‘if you knew yourself like I do, you’d paint the walls with your brains?’ ” she quoted some of the notes, “who is that? Because it can’t be you, Jade, it just can’t.” 

“It was just a joke,” Jade muttered, barely loud enough to be heard. 

“A joke?”

She nodded, still hoping she could just cease to exist on the spot. Everyone knew her now, the parts of her she managed to write down in notes anyway, and they looked at her like she was a cockroach. She was painfully aware of their expressions, their shock, their horror. They hated her. But maybe if she could convince them, convince herself, that it was all a joke, it wouldn’t be so bad. It didn’t have to be. 

“Wow, really funny joke, Jade,” Ellen quipped, a little more bite in her voice than before, “ Mrs Parker thought it was hilarious.”

She changed tactics on the spot. Shifting the blame, “Look, it’s not my fault that Emily-”

“-not your fault? Jesus, are you even sorry?” Ellen rubbed a hand across her face, stretching her cheek to the point where it could have been funny if it were in any other situation. 

But it was a good question, and Jade wasn’t sure how to answer it. Certainly, she regretted being expelled, and she felt something very close to shame every time she thought about the way Mrs Parker had looked at her. But to be sorry, Jade would have to accept responsibility for Emily’s choice. And since nothing was her fault… “No, I’m not.”

“Oh my god,” she breathed. “You…” she pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “She could have died, Jade.”

Everyone was more concerned about Emily than they were about actually understanding the situation. Somehow, even now, her mother’s primary concern seemed to be Emily and her precious feelings. “Maybe next time, she’ll try harder,” she muttered, but it was loud enough that Ellen heard her. 

The look on her face was one that Jade wasn’t sure she’d ever forget. Beyond horror, beyond shock. Just absolutely twisted in disbelief, she was disgusted “I-” she shook her head, “who are you?” it was almost a whisper. 

That question, paired with the look of revulsion on her mother’s face, nearly destroyed her. There was no longer any doubt in her mind that she should be afraid, so she was. 

Terrified.

Heat spread through her limbs as if trying to burn her before she could do any more damage, but she couldn’t run from it. Mrs Parker was right, she was a monster, and not even her mother could find her underneath all the twisted up anger that made her less than human. 

If she could combust on the spot, she would have, but instead, she lashed out. It’s who she was “I’m your screwup kid from your screwup marriage,” she barked, “but it’s okay, you’ve got a second chance.” 

“I never said you were-”

“-unless you screw him up, too.” It was a low blow, and she knew it. But of course, it was. She was a monster. She lowered her voice, “that would be a shame, wouldn’t it? Your shiny new baby…” 

“Just stop it,” the interjection was harsh, but not hysterical. Jade’s attempt to hurt her had backfired. “This isn’t about me, or Owen, or Matt or anyone. This is about you, Jade.” she asserted, “it’s about you and your shitty behaviour. You can’t treat people like that.” Her voice was rising as she found authority in her words. 

“I can treat people however I want to.” 

That touched a nerve, and not even a second later, Ellen was ready with her response, “You’re just like him sometimes!” she shouted, but immediately brought a hand to her mouth. 

Time stopped as Ellen and Jade stared at each other. Both of them processing what just happened. “I’m sorry, Jade, I didn’t-” 

“- no, it’s good,” she shrugged, now trying to think of every good thing about her dad. Every bad thing about her mom. Trying to tip the scales back in her favour after being compared to the man who degraded her whenever he saw fit. She could only think of one thing “See because he didn’t try to replace me with-”

But Ellen wasn’t having it, and she cut Jade off mid-sentence “-he abandoned you,” she clarified, “I don’t know how that makes me the bad guy. He left, and I stayed and put up with you pushing me awa-.”

“-Put up with me? Wow, okay,” Jade focused on the phrasing, deciding to tear it apart on the spot. There was so much insinuated by that, and she didn’t know what to make of it. She kept talking anyway, “I didn’t know I was such a problem. You know, you could at least pretend to love me.” she challenged. 

“I do love you! It’s just…” Ellen stopped, closed her eyes and shook her head. She was disappointed, but not in Jade. 

When she squinted, Jade could almost see tears pricking at the corners of her mother’s eyes. It made her want to back down, but she was too curious. “Just what?”

Ellen shook her head, “nevermind, it’s not important. We’re talking about what happened today.” 

“Just. What?” she demanded. Voice quiet and cold, at least for the time being. 

“Nothing.”

“Tell me!” she could feel herself getting lost, but she was too preoccupied with what Ellen had almost said. 

“Jade…” she sighed, it was shaky like she was almost worn to the point of tears.

“It’s just what Ellen?” she spat, and she could have sworn she heard her father. Except he wasn’t there, not in her basement bedroom at her mother’s house. 

Ellen sobbed, “it’s just so hard sometimes,” her voice cracked, and she brought her hands to her eyes. 

Jade froze at the sight of her mother crying. Panic took over her body, stealing the air from her lungs, pricking her eyes with tears. She clenched her hands into fists, trying to hold all that energy inside before it started seeping out of her. 

“You push everything away, and it doesn’t matter how hard I try,” she choked out between sobs, “And you spend all this time with him, and I don’t know what he...but you don’t tell me anything,” she took in several shaky breaths before she continued, “I have done everything for you. I stayed… I” her calm was short-lived before she broke into frustrated tears again, “I don’t know what to do with you.”

Jade tried desperately to breathe, but her lungs had stopped working. Her heart beat too fast in her ribcage, threatening to burst at any second, and she hoped it would. Those words had cut straight through her, and all her deepest insecurities were confirmed. But in the worst way possible, from the last person she expected would ever hurt her like this. 

Serves her right for forgetting that she couldn’t trust anyone. She’d let herself get too comfortable, too safe. She was able to manage a single shaky breath and blinked harshly to try and force the tears back into her eyes, trying to focus on what she would say next. 

Her lips moved, sound came out, but she couldn’t hear what she was saying, and she didn’t remember what her mother said next. The argument ended with her shoving Ellen out of the room, slamming the door and leaning against it trying not to collapse into a pile on the ground. 

She had no idea how it got to that point.

***  
Jade thought that she’d be alone for the rest of the night, especially after a fight like that. It had been a long time since an argument with her mother had been so personal and it left her completely drained, but wide awake. She was trying to put distance between herself and her mother’s words. Figuring out how to justify her perception with the harsh reality of the whole fight.

Either her mother was wrong, or Jade was loathsome. She worked on trying to prove the former, avoiding the idea that the adults were right. 

The knock at her door was quiet and steady, but she ignored it. She didn’t want to speak to Matt right now, or anyone, really. But it came again. And again. 

“Whaaatt?” she groaned, not energetic enough to scream or snap. 

Matt walked in with a mug in his hands, “I talked to your mom, seems like you had a really busy day,” he sat down on the foot of the bed and patted the spot next to him. 

Which she didn’t have to listen to. She didn’t have to sit beside him, she had every right to keep pacing the length of her room if that’s what she’d rather do. She looked at him indignantly and made a show of walking to the opposite end of the room and leaning against the wall. 

“I brought you decaf,” he held up the mug. 

Jade couldn't wait to contradict him, “I hate tea,” she glared at him like it should be obvious. 

“So you’ve said, but you asked about decaf coffee, and now we have decaf coffee.” 

Jade narrowed her glare at him, still unimpressed. 

“So this is coffee.” he clarified. 

She teetered on her feet, debating whether or not she should take the cup. Accepting his peace offering would make her weak, but the smell was starting to fill the room and she remembered that she still hadn’t eaten that day. It occurred to her that a cup of coffee and some food might be exactly what she needed in order to think about this objectively. 

But ultimately, her pride won out and she stayed leaning against the wall, “I don’t want coffee.” 

He just shrugged and put the mug on her bedside table. “You know, we’re really scared, Jade.” 

Jade eyed him and let his words hang in the air. She didn’t have a response, he wasn’t telling her anything she couldn’t already guess. Of course they were scared. Apparently, everyone was, and she should be too. That’s what she was trying to think about before he interrupted her. 

Matt mistook her silence as permission to keep talking, and he pressed on, “Obviously we- I - your mom and me, obviously we’re not happy about today.”

“Yeah, I got that.” 

“Mostly though,” he ignored her interjection, “we’re really worried about you.” 

She wished she’d gone to him when he’d invited her to sit down. She wished she had the cup of coffee that was still on her bedside. She wished he was holding her right now. 

She stayed leaning against the wall. 

“What happened with Emily is just- so beyond not okay. I mean, you really hurt her...” 

Jade rolled her eyes, making sure he saw. She was familiar now with the fact that Emily had precious tiny feelings and that she was this impossible monster that had come along and destroyed her. Boo hoo. 

“...but we’re worried that you haven't been yourself in a long time. We’re trying to figure out what’s going on, so we can help you. Okay? We miss you, kid. What happened today, what’s been happening for months...that’s not you.”

Jade didn’t know what her reaction would be, but she could feel his words surrounding her. They were a forcefield, pushing out all the doubts she’d had about herself since she first found out she should be afraid. 

It didn’t last long, however, because Jade remembered the look on her mother’s face, and she remembered the force of her words, how powerful they were, how they tore her apart. It’s because she hadn’t expected them, and rather than trust Matt and his words, Jade chose to keep herself safe. She was too smart to ever let herself get hurt like that again. “Stop trying to be my dad.” Quiet. “It's never going to happen.”

After Matt left, Jade stayed awake. The pizza her mother brought and the coffee from Matt both sat where they’d been left, completely untouched. She paced again, trying to organize her thoughts, but they were scattered. 

Instead, she busied herself by making sure everything was ready. Efficiency could only make this easier, so Jade was sure to be quick in her tasks, double-checking when she remembered to. 

At one in the morning, she left her room. 

Efficiency could only make this easier, and yet, Jade was distracted by a very inefficient pang of guilt. 

Owen. 

She tiptoed as she made her way to her brother’s room and gently pushed open the door. It was Friday now, he was two years old today. But he didn’t know it yet, he was fast asleep. She wanted to make sure he was okay. There was so much she wanted to say to him, but he wouldn’t understand. 

She’d known she was going to do this eventually, she just didn’t expect it to be so soon. The first time she thought about it was back in first grade. She almost went through with it in third grade, on one of the evenings where she snuck out so she wouldn’t have to listen to them hitting each other. 

At the time, she knew that she could never do something like that on an impulse, so stayed put and made a plan. Something so that she could do it right when she needed to.

This was escape plan B. Plan A involved her going to school in the morning, spending the day there, and then not coming home. But seeing as she’d been expelled, she didn’t have that option.

She had plans C through F. Backups on backups: she’d known for a long time that she would run away someday, and every time she’d felt the urge, she’d imagine what she’d do when the right moment hit. 

It was the right moment now.

Jade looked down at her baby brother, fast asleep, and she almost felt guilty for what she was about to do. She wasn’t going to be there for him, leaving on his birthday. Who did that? She supposed only someone truly horrible would leave their brother on his birthday. But, wasn’t that who she was? And wouldn’t he be better off growing up without her? 

“You are perfect,” she whispered to him. She wanted him to know that. She didn’t want him to feel like she did right now, maybe if someone had told her she was perfect, she wouldn’t. 

But even as she said it, she knew she didn’t need to. He’d be fine. He had Matt for a dad, and Jade had never seen her mother more devoted. He’d grow up loved, and he didn’t really know her, so he wouldn’t miss her. It was probably better that way. “You’re gonna be just fine,” she said, as she backed out of the room. 

“Goodbye, stupid.”

The door to the bread cupboard squeaked, so she didn’t risk it. Instead, she went to the pantry and stuffed her bag with granola bars. There was a package full of water bottles, and she made sure to take a few of those too. She stopped by the key dish. It was part of her plan that she’d lock up again. Reduce suspicion when Matt got the paper from the doorstep in the morning. Her mother’s keys were right beside Matt’s wallet. She took both. 

Jade knew the alarm code, almost by heart after sneaking out so many times. She reset it, so it wouldn’t go off when she opened the door, which she closed and locked behind her without making a sound. 

Then she just stood there.

There was still time to go back inside. She could make sure that Owen got his spider. Ask Matt what he’d tried to tell her earlier but this time, she’d try to listen. From the snippets she caught, it sounded important. Not push her mother away when she pointed out that something was wrong. Talk to her about Cliff, and the things he said that she didn’t think he was supposed to. 

But it wouldn’t work out like that. Not really.

She remembered the way her mother’s face twisted in disgust, looking at her like she was disfigured or insane. How she broke down, admitting that she had no idea what to do with her. That she was just like her dad. That she was hard to love.

Jade had to face reality: she didn’t have a home there anymore. 

So she locked the door, took the cash out of Matt’s wallet, and placed it in the mailbox along with the keys. She wasn’t worried about it tipping anyone off, Ellen always got the mail on her way home from work, never sooner. 

At the end of the very short driveway, Jade gave herself one final glance back at the house, then set off down the street. 

She kept her pace fairly quick for the first while. In case anyone woke up or decided to check on her, or run after her. Even though they wouldn’t. She just wanted to get as far away as possible before slowing down or stopping. Not running, because she knew she’d need to save some energy, but walking with purpose. 

It was exciting actually. Or, it would be if it didn’t also make her ache at the realization that she could never go back. 

After an hour and a half, she spotted a playground. Not one she’d ever seen before, and she knew she was far enough away to stop, at least for a little while. The streetlamps were far enough apart that there were blankets of darkness to weave through, not well lit enough that anyone would see her. She wasn’t worried about being caught, or anything, she just thought that it might be smart to avoid anyone else wandering the streets at two-thirty in the morning. Instead of a bench or a swing, Jade sat behind the slide, tucked close enough that the slope caused her to hunch over. 

There was a sharp pang in her stomach, shooting up to her ribs. She hadn’t had dinner or lunch, and after walking for so long, her hunger was screaming at her. Granola bars never tasted so good. Even though she’d planned on rationing them, Jade helped herself to two of the bars she’d packed, and half of one of the water bottles. 

Now that she’d eaten, Jade emptied her bag so she could see what she’d packed. She’d been unfocused the whole time, so she couldn’t remember what she had. 

A few clothes: a change of shirt, some pants, three socks, a pair of underwear. She pulled on her still too big film camp hoodie, the night was chilly now that she was sitting still. There were still 8 more granola bars and three full water bottles. Her notebook was in the front pocket, and her pencil case, but she didn’t remember grabbing it. She’d also inexplicably brought a flashlight. She fiddled with it for a minute before sticking in the sand next to her. 

She remembered the cash she’d taken from Matt and pulled it out of her back pocket but was dismayed to find it was only fifteen bucks. Maybe she could buy herself some breakfast in the morning, or some chips at a corner store, but then the money would be gone, so she tucked it in her notebook. Save it for when the granola ran out. 

Her feet were aching, so she leaned back against the slide, crimping her neck a little. She could risk a little break before walking again. There wasn’t much to do except think, but she was so tired and numb from the evening that she was blank. It didn’t happen often, and she didn’t like it, but she had no energy to do anything other than just sit there. 

Occasionally, she’d catch herself falling asleep. Once she’d forced herself up with so much force that she banged her head off the slide, but not hard enough to hurt. But eventually, she wasn’t able to keep herself awake, and she drifted off curled up behind the slide. 

She was woken by another hunger pang. It took a moment to remember where she was, why she was there, and that she’d gone on purpose. She panicked, worried that someone would come by the playground and see her, but then she realized it was still dark. 

There was a sharp pain in her neck, and between her shoulders, and her feet were throbbing. It felt like someone had sucked all the energy out of her body through a straw, and she couldn’t remember a time she’d ever been this tired. 

There was probably another hour or so of night left before the sun would start rising. Which was great, because she should start heading-

-oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I've been excited about this chapter since about Ch15, and I kept wanting to hurry things along, but I was patient. I hope you enjoyed it, lemme know what you think!
> 
> And of course, another Thank you, 
> 
> -Trashdove


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry about my extended absence. It was unplanned, and I promise I have a good reason, though I hope you'll forgive me for sparing the details. I loved reading all your thoughts on the last chapter, and I hope my lateness hasn't caused anyone to lose interest, as I'm excited to hear what you think about this chapter. Hope everyone is staying safe and sane.

The sun still hadn’t risen, and walking or not, sweater or not, Jade was shivering. She wasn’t sure if it was from the chill in the wind, the pain in her shoulder, or the unshakeable feeling that her life was over at 11 years old. Didn’t matter, she kept walking. The best thing for her to do now was to get as far away from home as possible. 

Another cause for her trembling: she was still hungry. The two granola bars weren’t enough to fill her stomach, and she’d eaten them hours ago. Occasionally, her walking was interrupted by a powerful hunger pang that shot up to her ribs and made her nauseous. Then, she’d wait it out and start walking again. They were usually fairly brief, and she needed to save the other bars for when the hunger became unbearable. 

The whole reason she’d run away was that she didn’t want to think about the day before. But even though she was hours away from home, on some busy street that she’d never seen before, she still couldn’t stop running over everything that had happened in the past 24 hours. 

She wanted to be someone new. Someone who never pushed people to their breaking point, whose mother didn’t look at them like they were an incomprehensible horror. But she was stuck as Jade, wherever she went. 

At some point, she realized that the sun had finally risen. She wondered when her mother would find out she was gone, or if she already knew. But then Ellen’s horrified look flashed in her brain and she thought that, quite possibly, her mother wouldn’t care. 

If she was going to make it on the streets, she’d have to stop worrying about what her mother thought. There were more practical issues, like breakfast. 

Since the sun was up, Jade decided it was a new day. Even though, technically, it had been a new day even when she fell asleep under the slide. But the good thing about a new day was that she could stop obsessing over her granola bars. New day, new rations. 

Though, she only had eight left. Even if she ate three of them over the day, that would still leave only five left. Then three tomorrow, two left. Then she’d have to resort to the money she’d taken from Matt, which she should save for a time when she absolutely needed it. She decided to wait longer before indulging in her limited supply, and mentally scolded herself for not taking more food or stealing more money. 

Slowly, the sidewalk filled with people as the morning progressed. This was good for Jade because it meant she blended in with a sea of other people and hardly anyone noticed her as she kept walking aimlessly around the city. A few people looked directly at her when she passed them, and she could feel their stares burning in the back of her head even after they were gone. They were probably just wondering why she wasn’t at school. 

It was the second time she’d ever missed a day without being sick, and the first time ever that she was alone. She wanted it to be exciting, liberating, and in many ways it was. There was no set destination, no schedule to keep, no adult to please. She could do whatever she wanted, and no one would be around to stop her. She could run into oncoming traffic without being pulled away, she could swear at strangers without being told not to, she could trip little kids if she wanted to.

The options were limitless, she was completely untethered for the first time in her life. 

But it wasn’t liberating. It was suffocating. Then, just like that, she couldn’t breathe anymore. 

The noise around her distorted, getting louder and less distinct. She couldn’t tell the difference between the traffic and the people, and even though a moment ago she could catch snippets of conversations in English, she could no longer identify a single word from passersby. Everything looked fuzzy, out of focus and way too bright at the same time. 

There was a familiar tightness in her chest that told her she was close to falling apart in front of the crowds, and she tried to move but she couldn’t tell if she was lightheaded or if the world was actually spinning. She blinked to try and force the world back into focus, but it didn’t work, and a poorly timed hunger pang was the tipping point. Her knees gave out and she fell backwards. 

When she came to, there was a small crowd of people around her. A man kneeling next to her, holding her face, “Don’t touch me,” she heard herself say, and then she was struggling to get up as fast as she could. Even as she was moving she could feel her head getting light again, but she was determined to get away from this stranger with his hands on her. 

“It’s okay, I’m a doctor. I can help-” he was speaking but Jade was already moving away. Everywhere she turned there was another well-intentioned and concerned stranger trying to block her path. 

An elderly couple asked where her parents were, one of them touched her shoulder and she lept away. A young woman got in her way and asked if she was lost.

All these strangers reaching out and trying to grab her, hold her, stop her and none of them knew a damn thing about her. They didn’t know that their touches burned her skin, that everything was too much right now. All her senses were screaming at her and the only thing she knew for sure was that she had to get away from it. 

The doctor caught up to her and started talking again, “you should really sit down, get your blood sugar up. I was checking for signs of a concussion-,” he slowly reached a hand out to grab her.

Jade swatted his wrist and backed up, “get away from me!” she demanded, and took off. More well-intentioned strangers tried to stop her, but she dodged them and ran until they were behind her. 

She didn’t know it, but several people pulled out their phones to call 911 as she ran away. 

When the buildings around her came back into focus, Jade slowed down. There were a few boutiques and stores, now open for the day so it had to be late morning. Every few paces, Jade was met with a new smell of food or coffee wafting out of one of the several restaurants and cafes, causing her stomach to growl in protest at its own emptiness. 

The crowd around her was full of new faces, and none of them seemed to pay her any attention at all, and the new sense of anonymity gave her enough security that she felt it was time for her breakfast. She took the opportunity to dip into an alleyway between a yoga studio and a coffee shop. 

It was here that she noticed she’d left her backpack behind. All her food and water, the money she’d taken from Matt, her notebook, it was all gone now. She had nothing. No food, no water. No money, and no mom to go back to. 

No mom.

On her first day of kindergarten, Jade clung to Ellen’s leg, barely moving away enough to check out the classroom or her peers. She’d spent the entire drive to school trying to negotiate for more time. Trying to convince her mother that she’d be ready for kindergarten in another year, another month, week, day, minute. 

Most of her classmates were already grouping off, forming friendships over games that didn’t interest her. Some, like her, were clinging to their parents. When it was time for parents to leave, Jade held on tighter, pressing her face into Ellen’s leg. 

“You’ll have so much fun,” her mother whispered, running a hand through her hair.

“No. No fun.” Jade insisted. Ellen made a move to pry her off, but she held on tighter. 

“Think of all the friends you’ll make.” 

“NO!” and she pushed herself away from her mother. Ellen staggered back a few steps. Jade stood there, arms crossed and scowling.

“Sweetie, I have to leave.” 

Her resolve melted away and she ran back to wrap her arms around Ellen’s waist, “Take me.”

“Jade..”

“I just want to stay with you,” she whined. Then, deciding that she hadn’t made her point, she added, “forever.” 

They went back and forth for another thirteen minutes before Ellen left. Tears soaked Jade’s cheeks, and she hid in the coatroom for most of the morning. That’s when she decided that crying was gross. When the teacher finally coaxed her out, she sat down next to a girl who was making a flower out of play-doh. “You cry a lot,” she said, and Jade crushed the doh in her hands before throwing on the carpet. 

It worked out that tears weren’t usually her first response to strong emotions. Jade felt much more comfortable smashing plates or putting holes in walls, cutting up whatever inanimate object was closest to her. She was just a little kid the last time she cried, nine years old. Her mother held her the entire time, even after they fell asleep. 

Jade couldn’t tell, but she was on the verge of tears. Between the sharp pain in her shoulder, her throbbing feet, her empty stomach, and a new pain at the back of her head where she’d fallen, there wasn’t much room for her to notice the stinging behind her eyes or the quiver in her lower lip. 

Her mother was always there. Always. 

But not anymore. Tears filled her eyes, and she wished more than anything that Ellen would magically show up somehow, bring her home. But she knew that was impossible. Her mother had no idea where she was. 

She didn’t even know where she was. 

Tears accumulated along her lash line, finally getting heavy enough that one was dislodged by blinking. She tried to erase it with the back of her sweater sleeve as it rolled down her cheek, but it was replaced by another one. Then another.

She leaned against the wall, pressing her back into the brick even though her shoulders still hurt from having slept in an awkward position. But everything else was spinning around her like she’d been dislodged and left adrift in the middle of some neighbourhood she didn’t know. The brick pushed back against her, immovable and grounding as everything else swirled around in chaos. 

Tears were cascading now, accompanied by sniffles and the occasional whimper. She knew she must look pathetic, crying behind a building like she was some lost scared little kid. 

She hated herself for it. The way she was crying; that she was crying at all as if she had any reason to. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, clenched her hands into fists, trying to force the tears back inside. 

Jade knew she needed to be tougher than this, she just didn’t know how. She sniffed again, and let out the tiniest sob. Then she was gone. Desperate breaths shook her whole body, while she choked, air not filling her lungs despite the intensity of her efforts. She brought her knees straight into her chest and wrapped her arms around her shins. Hot tears soaked her jeans when she lowered her head and pressed her face into her knees. 

Pathetic.

The culminating weight of the past 24 hours crashed down around her, keeping her pinned in the same position, curled against the wall. It was hell, she was exhausted, snotty, sore, and heartbroken, and she wished she’d stayed home so at least she could be crying in her bed. Leaving had been a mistake. A huge one. 

She wanted to go back, but she had no idea where to start. For a fleeting moment, she thought about the pizza that was likely still in her room and the coffee that Matt had brought down. She wanted them, she wanted her bed. She wanted- 

-The disgusted look on Ellen’s face showed in the back of her mind, and she knew that no matter what happened next: she couldn’t go back there. It hurt too much. 

But the loss was taking its time to process fully. All the words and fights and looks that made her current reality swirled around in her brain, and she wondered how she had let everything get so out of control. 

If she had taken the decaf when Matt had offered, maybe she’d still be home. If she had taken the opportunity to talk to her mother, rather than shutting down, maybe there wouldn’t have been a fight at all. 

She tried to stop that particular path of thought because it came too close to taking responsibility for things that couldn’t be her fault. But she was all alone and there was no one else to blame. 

If she hadn’t come up with the bogus petition, left notes…

...Jade finally caught up with the adults: Emily had gone to the hospital, and it was her fault. They wouldn’t have expelled her otherwise. 

There was a time, shortly after her dad had left, where Jade had wondered if she was so twisted and broken that she could never be loved. When she pushed her mother away in fear that eventually, she’d prove herself right. And now, she had. 

Everything that had happened just served to prove that she was the problem. Not her mother, not Matt, or Emily, or her dad. Her. 

It was an unavoidable truth, and it didn’t matter if accepting it made the world shatter around her. That it made her stomach churn and her whole body feel both on fire and freezing at the same time. Her insides tearing themselves apart and smashing together like they were trying to kill her. 

Rejecting it, like she’d tried to do, wouldn’t help. Only kids and idiots refuse to believe facts in favour of their feelings. Fact, she was the problem. Always had been. Right back to the first fight, which wouldn’t have happened if she’d passed that stupid spelling test. 

It occurred to her that she couldn’t take responsibility for every fight her parents ever had. They were adults, after all, and could make their own decisions. But she could take responsibility for the fact that they’d gotten married in the first place. Which, by extension, made their marriage her fault. 

She was a problem before she was even born.

Her next sob was louder than the others had been, and she pressed herself even tighter. She started choking on her inhales; fearing, but mostly hoping that the sobs would suffocate or drown her. Of course, she knew that no one had ever actually died from crying before- unfortunately- which meant there was nothing to do except wait until it stopped. 

The aches in her body became more intense as the crying went on. The pain at the back of her head was dull but persistent and she wondered fleetingly if the doctor was right and she’d been concussed when she passed out. 

Did people die from concussions? Maybe? Hopefully? 

“Kid?” 

Matt? 

Everything stopped. She was scared to look up, but she heard it. 

If it was really him, he wouldn’t go away just because she was like...this. If it was really him, he’d stay until she calmed down, hold her and bring her back to her mom. She was tentative as she lifted her head from her knees. Not breathing.

But even through tear blurred eyes, she could tell it wasn’t him. She dragged her wrist across her face in a desperate attempt to wipe away her vulnerability, sniffed a few times, but she didn’t respond. 

The man was standing a few feet away from her, but blocking off the only way out of the alleyway. He took two steps in her direction, and she scrambled to try and move away. 

“It’s alright,” his voice was soft but determined, he crouched down so they were face to face. At the end of the alley, between the buildings, there was another man, watching, “my name is Officer Vega,” he pulled a badge out of his pocket. Jade looked at it quickly but didn’t care enough to find out if it was real or not. If this was a cop, whatever. If it was a kidnapper, whatever. “My partner and I just want to help,” he nodded back at the man at the end of the alley. He reached out a hand, but she didn’t take it. 

She stood up though, still shaky on her feet. Swayed a bit, “careful,” Officer Vega reached out to catch her, but she pushed against him. “It’s okay,” he tried to reassure her, “I’m not going to hurt you. We just want to get you home.” 

Internally, she rolled her eyes, but she didn’t have enough energy to make the expression reach her face. She walked behind him, following him out of the alley and past his partner. Now that Jade had stopped crying, she could see the other officer better, a woman, holding on to her backpack. “That’s mine,” she managed to croak out.

“Just holding onto it for ya,” the other officer smiled, “you can have it on the drive,” she held out the bag. Jade took it and pulled it into her chest. She buried her face in the canvas but followed the officers to the car. 

The back seat was uncomfortable, but it was hardly her main concern, she hugged her bag tighter and kept her gaze fixed at an imaginary spot a foot off the floor. 

***

The day after that was a blur. 

She didn’t remember the drive to the hospital, but she remembered the nurse taking her vitals. Officer Vega kept asking her questions, most of them completely asinine, but she refused to answer any of them. 

Why did he think he was entitled to any information about her? She didn’t need to tell him her name, her parent’s names, whether her home was safe or not, if someone hit her- she didn’t need to tell him anything. 

And he kept waving this picture around, of him with two little girls who were her age. His daughters, who he seemed to think made him automatically trustworthy. They didn’t. She hated them, and she wanted him to stop talking. 

Which he did, thankfully, when the doctor examined her. Mild concussion. 

Then she blinked and she wasn’t at the hospital anymore. 

She was sitting in a chair, wrapped in a blanket, a paper cup full of water on the table in front of her. Vega’s partner, Officer...Officer Something was asking her the same list of questions. 

“What’s your name?” 

God, why were they insufferable? She hoped something terrible happened to officer something, and officer Vega. And his stupid kids, for good measure. “Robin.”

“Banks?-” Vega chimed in. 

Shut up. 

“-Because we hear that one a lot.” 

He went on to ask if she was safe at home, telling her that they weren’t going to send back if that wasn’t the case. Officer Something joined in to tell her that eventually, they’d find out who her parents were, and her noncompliance would only make it take longer. Not prevent it. 

Whatever.

Jade was only half listening to them anyway. She was far more interested in the fact that it was somehow three pm, even though she could have sworn it was still morning. If this were a normal Friday, she’d be getting out of class right now. Her eyes stared unfocused on the cup of water while Officers Vega and Something kept droning on, their voices garbled. 

At some point, Officer Something started making calls to other precincts from the phone on her desk that Jade had just noticed, even though it had rung several times since she’d been there. Officer Vega pushed an Inside Out bag towards her, another thing she hadn’t seen despite it having been there the whole time. 

Her hunger was mostly gone at this point. Instead, there were these dull waves of nausea that worsened at the smell of grease. 

“Got it,” Officer Something smiled as she hung up the phone, “Burbank got a call this morning ‘bout a runaway kid. They’re forwarding the info now, but fits the description,” she explained to Vega who was looking at her intently. Something switched her focus to Jade, “so, let’s find out who you are and send ya home.” 

Jade sat there, paralyzed. Burbank was close enough that it made sense, but it had to be another runaway kid who looked like her. She was kind of plain. Brunette with blue eyes. Average, at least, that’s what her dad said. 

But when Officer Something pulled up the file on her computer, Jade knew there likely wasn’t another runaway kid from Burbank who looked like her. “Jade West,” Something read her name off the screen.

“Not Robin Banks?” Vega joked under his breath. 

Officer Something reached across the desk and shoved him, “Alright Jade,” she sighed, “let’s call your mom.”

The next wave of nausea was not caused by the greasy bag still in Officer Vega’s hands. The blanket which had been comforting at first now suffocated her, making the whole room too warm. Tears pricked behind her eyes, and she curled her hands into fists in frustration at the thought of crying twice in one day. “Please, don’t call my mom,” she whimpered out before she could even stop herself. 

Officer Something looked her over, face setting, “She made the call this morning, it’s our job,” she started, “Is- are you not safe there?” 

All Jade could do was shake her head. 

“Does she hit you?” Officer Vega asked.

She swallowed hard, still shaking her head, “Just…” Jade started speaking, but she didn’t know what she’d been trying to say. Something about her mom, not wanting to go home? Right, that, “call my dad. C- can you call my dad instead?” 

They exchanged looks.

“Clifford West, please, just-” she took a break to stop herself from getting too worked up, “that’s his name, call him.” Jade shrugged the blanket off her shoulders and pulled her knees up again. Another wave of nausea swept over her, and she buried her face in her knees, jeans now dry. “Please,” she added.

“We have to call your mom,” Officer Vega said, “but she doesn’t have to come here.”

“David-”

“-he’s listed as a contact,” Vega shrugged, and maybe his whole family didn’t need to be hit by a meteor anymore, “our job is to get her somewhere safe tonight, the rest is for Social Services.” 

Officer Something gnawed on the inside of her cheek for a second before letting out a heavy sigh, “fine. But you get to explain it to the mom.” 

After calling her dad, Officer Something tried to get her to eat. She kept nudging the InsideOut bag, but Jade kept declining. Officer Vega was still on the phone with Ellen when Jade’s dad entered the precinct. 

His jaw clenched at the sight of her, and Jade cowered even more in her chair as he strode across the room. She felt like she was under a microscope as he looked down on her, not saying anything. 

Then a long sigh while he signed some papers, his foot tapping the way it did when he was impatient. He handed the forms back to Officer Something and thanked her before turning back to Jade, “Well?”

She couldn’t tell if he was waiting for an explanation or an apology, but she didn’t have enough energy to do either. She was barely sure that she could follow him out on her own two feet.

“Let’s go,” but his usual conviction was missing from his voice. It was softer, quieter than Jade was used to. She wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing, so she stayed curled up on the chair. He looked back at her, “come on, Jade,” and his face softened along with his voice. 

But not in the way that made it obvious to anyone else. Just her. Somehow, that made it more real, and she was unafraid as she followed him out of the precinct to the car. 

Another blink and they were pulling up to the gate at the condo. 

He grabbed her backpack from the seat behind him, carried it up the stairs. When she stumbled over her feet, he whipped around and steadied her, keeping his hand on her shoulder as they made their way into the unit. 

“Have you eaten today?” He was already making his way to the kitchen, having put her backpack on the couch. 

It’s the first thing he said to her since the precinct, “no,” because Jade knew that the two granola bars she had at 2 in the morning didn’t count. “I’m not hungry though.”

“Right,” he seemed sceptical but didn’t push the issue, “well then, head to bed. Sure you must be tired.”

‘Tired’ didn’t begin to cover it, but rather than argue over word choice, Jade picked up her bag from the couch and headed to her bedroom. 

The first thing she saw was Dexter. Sitting in his box on the shelf like he was waiting for her. Then her other bugs, her desk, and finally her bed. All day she’d been wanting to curl up underneath the safety of her covers, and now that she was finally there, she realized that sleep could wait. 

Getting clean could not. 

Jade had never felt more disgusting in her life. Her eyes were still sore, and the tear tracks they’d left attracted dust which had dried to her face. Her jeans were dirty from the sand she’d slept in, and there was sweat around the nape of her neck sticking to her sweater. She rummaged through her bag for the clean clothes she’d brought, but decided she didn’t want to change into jeans. The dresser across the room had a few pairs of pyjamas that she always kept at her dad’s, and she pulled out a pair of those instead. 

She made her way to the bathroom across the hall and turned on the shower as hot as it went. Jade dragged her tongue across her teeth, noticing for the first time that day that she hadn’t brushed her teeth since yesterday morning. As she waited for the steam to build up in the shower, she brushed them twice with the toothbrush she kept at her dad’s. Once to scrub off the plaque and replace the stale taste in her mouth with a new, minty one and the second time because after rinsing off her brush, she couldn’t remember if she’d done it or not. 

Finally, she stepped into the shower. The scalding water burned her skin for only a moment before she adjusted to it, and she leaned into the stream pouring down on her. It felt especially nice on her shoulders which were still aching, and she spent the first few minutes just standing there. 

But then she got to work on getting clean. Scrubbing soap into her arms and even the bottoms of her feet. She soaked her hair with conditioner to work through the many knots and tangles. 

Forty minutes later, Jade was clean, mostly dry, and in a fresh pair of pyjamas. 

The mattress was stiffer than the one at her mom’s house, which normally suited her just fine. But as she fell back onto the bed, it wasn’t the soft cushion she’d been hoping for all day. She crawled under the covers anyway and waited to fall asleep.

And waited. 

And waited.

And wai- there was a knock at her door. That didn’t happen at her dad’s condo, he never came to see her in her room. It piqued her curiosity enough that she responded instead of ignoring it, “yeah?” 

The door stayed closed, “I brought you soup,” what? He what? “ It’s not good to not eat, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“Uh, yeah,” she couldn’t keep the confusion out of her voice, “come in?” 

He crossed the room and put the bowl on her bedside table, “even if it’s just a little, you should have something,” he explained. 

Jade knew she should thank her dad, but he was so out of character that she honestly wasn’t even sure it was him. He wasn’t mad at her for being expelled? Or running away? Maybe he was, and he was just waiting until she felt comfortable before going off on how disrespectful she was. 

“Eat up,” he nudged the bowl on her table, and she noticed the plate underneath it had a slice of toast. Cut diagonally. 

Before he got angry, she should start apologizing. Be proactive so nothing got out of hand the longer it went unsaid. “Dad, I’m-”

“-Just eat,” he cut her off before she could finish, “we can talk about it in the morning.” 

Jade took a triangle of toast and nibbled at it, uninterested. She studied her dad as she ate while he stood there awkwardly, so out of place in her room but not making any action towards leaving. When she finished her first half slice of toast, her stomach let out a long groan and she brought the bowl of soup carefully to rest on her lap. The more she ate, the hungrier she got, and by the time she finished the bowl and the other half slice, she realized how empty her stomach had been. 

He stood there the whole time, either watching her or looking around the room. “I can make more,” he offered when he noticed she’d finished eating.

“No, no it’s fine,” Jade felt that too much would make her puke, even though she was still a little hungry. What she wanted now was sleep. 

He nodded but stayed rooted to the spot where he’d been since he put her bowl down. “Right. Good,” he focused his gaze at the moths he’d given her for her birthday. “I guess I’ll, uh, let you rest,” he said to them. 

He walked over to her bedside table where she’d put her empty bowl and plate, but he stopped before picking them up. Jade watched him intently, trying to figure out what was up with him tonight. He hesitated at the table and reached a hand out towards the mattress, but brought it back to his side. “Dad?” 

He turned to look at her, breaking his focus on the moths, “yeah?” 

“You don’t have to-” and she tried to figure out how to phrase it so she didn’t sound absolutely pathetic, “-I mean, you can stay a little if that's...what you want?” 

“Okay,” he was still looking at her when he sat down on the bed. He stayed quiet, but she could tell his mind was reeling by the way he kept squinting slightly. It had been his idea to talk about this in the morning, but clearly, he had something to say now. Again he reached a hand out towards her, but this time he didn’t draw it away at the last second. He brought it to rest on her shoulder. “I thought that-” he started but cut himself off with a sigh, He clenched his jaw and ground his teeth before he continued, changing his approach, “I’m happy you’re safe.”

They stayed like that for a long time. Way longer than Jade had initially thought when she invited him to stay. Slowly she started moving closer to him until she was pressed against his side. As much as she could, anyway, given that she was laying down and he was sitting. 

Now and then he’d give her shoulder a tight squeeze, or run his thumb back and forth. When Jade shifted so she was on her side, still facing him, he removed his hand, and she missed the warmth. It was only gone for a second, as he reached across her and started rubbing her back. 

She sunk into the mattress and closed her eyes, keeping them shut and just enjoying the rare moment of closeness. A yawn escaped her as she shifted her head on the pillow, “I don’t want to go back to Ellen,” she murmured, eyes still closed.

“Well, it’s my week starting tomorrow-”

“No,” Jade could hear the sleep in her voice, and she knew she only had a few minutes before she’d doze off, “I mean ever.” 

He was silent as he kept rubbing circles between her shoulders. Her breathing slowed and she finally felt the heaviness of her exhaustion starting to shift into sleep when he whispered his reply, “I’ll take care of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about 500 words longer than the other chapters, and the next chapter is even longer (after that though I'll try to keep them trimmed to under 5000 words each.) Hope you enjoyed it, sorry again for being so late.
> 
> Thank you for reading,  
> -Trashdove


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know my tags are upfront about the fact that there's domestic abuse, but now would be a really good time to remind you that; yes, there's domestic abuse. 
> 
> **Specific Trigger warning in the notes at the end of the chapter** (still about domestic abuse) 
> 
> This is a much longer chapter, and after this, I'm going to keep them all fairly uniform in length (under 5000 words, usually 4800 is where I stop, not that I'm looking for a word count or anything). Because of it's length, I broke it up into tons of littler sections, which I probably should have been doing in my last chapters too. Mabye I'll switch to that, since I think It's more correct.

When Ellen Cooper found herself pregnant at 21, she wasn’t sure she was ready to be a mother. She was still in school, still had her wild streak, and as much as she’d always wanted a family, she figured she had more growing up to do first. 

Besides, she didn’t think Clifford was the marrying type. He was already thirty but had never said anything about wanting a wife. He was, however, insistent on the fact that he didn’t want kids, “too noisy”. 

Her relationship with him was immature; she knew it. Didn’t mean she didn’t love him. He was serious, well-travelled, smart, and God was he good in bed. Sure, sometimes he was too serious, too stiff, not always very fun, but he had this way of compensating with flashy outings and exciting weekend getaways. Even still, she knew the relationship was based on the presents he bought her and the trips they took and the countless hours of...well. He just wasn’t husband material, and this baby would probably scare him off. So, it wasn’t just the wrong time; it was the wrong guy. 

Maybe it was the wrong baby. 

Ellen knew there were other options, and she considered them carefully. When she sat down with Clifford to tell him, she’d made up her mind. Too young, too immature, not ready for a baby. 

But she couldn’t even finish telling him what she wanted, because he responded as soon as she told him she was pregnant. To say she was surprised would have been an understatement. She’d planned for several possible outcomes, including the possibility that he’d start yelling at her, but instead, he dropped down on one knee and proposed. 

Everything she’d ever wanted, all she had to do was say yes. 

It was a quick wedding. They didn’t plan elaborately because Ellen wanted it to be done before she started to show. Small, simple, and still elegant. A glittery off the rack dress that fit her nicely. It was the happiest night of her life as he pulled her in closer by her waist on the dance floor, whispering sweetly in her ear. She’d never seen him smile so much, and she knew; this is what happy endings looked like. 

Her first hint that it wouldn’t work out was when he missed the first appointment. And the second and third... 

...She brought home pink balloons when she found out they were having a girl, and he just complained about the money she wasted. He didn’t want to touch her belly when the baby kicked. Didn’t care about names. 

But everything changed when Jade was born. Ellen looked down at her baby, and she wondered how anything could be so perfect. She never knew how much she could love someone, it was like a whole new power she was just discovering, and it only got stronger each day. Every time Jade cried, Ellen rushed to her, wanting to stop her tears before they even fell. 

Cliff changed too. He was attentive and loving, and he absolutely doted on their daughter. He brought home flowers for no reason, or new toys or cute little dresses. He’d wrap Jade up in his arms and bounce her around the living room. 

Ellen took hundreds of pictures. Jade's first spaghetti, her first Halloween, Christmas, her first haircut. But ordinary ones too: trips to the beach, Jade sitting on the piano bench, a picture with Jade on her grandmother’s lap on the dock in Oregon. 

Then, one night when Jade was ten months old, Cliff didn’t come home. 

At first, she thought nothing of it. But he didn’t answer her calls, and he wasn’t in the office when she stopped by with Jade at lunchtime the next day. He didn’t come home that night either, in fact, she didn’t see him for another two weeks. 

He insisted that he was called out of town last minute on a business trip to Sydney. That she could have figured it out on her own if she hadn’t “pulled an Ellen”. 

“A what?” 

“Oh, you know, freaking out for no reason…”

It stayed a lighthearted joke for a few years. It always hurt her feelings, though. 

The second time he left, Jade was three and asked about him frequently, so Ellen did the only thing that made sense: lie. She told her daughter that he was giving them a girl’s night to do something special, and thinking on her feet she tried to come up with something fun. They ate pizza on the hood of her van at one of the overlooks on Mulholland, far enough from the city that she could see a few constellations. Not a full night sky like she’d grown up with in Oregon, but Jade was mesmerized and fell asleep there in her arms. Ellen stroked her hair, kept her close, and found that she stopped thinking about Clifford entirely. She could do this forever. There were only four more “girl’s nights” before he came back. 

He left twice more before Jade started school. Each time she hoped Jade wouldn’t worry about the absence, and she tried to fill the days with scavenger hunts or trips to the beach. 

Jade had a knack for finding strange things, wherever they went. Objects that didn’t belong, broken or discarded, sometimes just plain creepy. She’d pick them up and show them off like they were the most interesting piece of treasure, ask if she could keep it, and Ellen would stare, completely perplexed and transfixed by her little girl’s weirdness. It got to the point where Ellen didn’t care if Cliff was there or not, she and Jade were enough of a family all on their own. 

Then Jade started school. 

Ellen finished her final year at UCLA while pregnant, and hadn’t worked since her co-op, but was eager to put her degree to use. The thought of entering the workforce was exciting. It would fill her day and give her a sense of financial independence. But, also, she couldn’t stand spending half the day at home, just waiting for Jade to be done school. Cliff was against it, insisted that he made them enough money, kept their joint account full. Told her that a job was too much work for her, she wouldn’t be able to handle it. She should “do what normal wives do and find a hobby if you’re bored.”

So she picked her camera up again and started taking pictures. At first, it was mundane things, since it’s what she was most familiar with. But she wanted to push herself and started looking for beautiful things in everyday spaces. Flowers poking out of concrete, perfectly lined up boxes on shelves, patterns in tire tracks. 

As Jade went from junior to senior kindergarten, Ellen challenged herself to look at the world the way her daughter did. Instead of finding beauty in the ordinary, she searched for the weird, out-of-place objects that Jade always seemed to find, hoping they might make an interesting picture. It was gratifying in a way she hadn’t expected. Cliff just called it her “stupid hobby”, but she enjoyed spending the half days looking for the next best shot. In a way, she was glad that she wasn’t working. 

Then Cliff lost his job, and she didn’t have a choice. 

She took on clerical work at the same company she worked for in her co-op. They sold houses, and she took the job because she was desperate. She was glad that the boss remembered her, glad she’d made an impression years ago. It was a laid back space, good people, and several of her coworkers started pushing her to get her license. With Jade entering first grade, it seemed like a good time to go back to school, and depending on how long Cliff would be out of work, she might have to think about mortgages and electricity. 

It was a short crash course, seven months, and she’d have three classes a week. Since Cliff was still out of work, it made sense for him to take on more of the household jobs, start being more present in their daughter’s life. He reluctantly agreed to help, but she’d come home to find that he was passed out and Jade hadn’t eaten dinner. Or that she’d given herself a stomach ache from eating an entire tub of ice cream. Or, once, that he hadn’t taken her to a doctor’s appointment. 

The first fights were very small. Quiet, reasonable, and only after Jade was sleeping. She didn’t ask him to stop drinking, she asked him to cut back. She didn’t ask him to watch Jade’s every move, she asked him to microwave her dinner. When the fights got louder and more personal, Ellen backed down. 

Her breaking point was when he called Jade stupid. It was a spelling test, she was six years old, and no one cared if a first grader failed a test. But he did, and the moment she saw her little girl slump in her chair, she shot back. It felt good, so good, to be yelling at him. So much so that she let herself get lost in it, she didn’t care what she was saying because it didn’t matter. She’d been holding on to so much hate for months and it came tumbling out of her while he screamed right back. 

When it was over, Ellen realised the time and rushed to get her child tucked in. She silently cursed herself for letting it get out of control like that while Jade was still awake. But when she got downstairs, Jade had already tucked herself in. Soft snores filled the pitch-black room, and Ellen slowly sank against the wall and cried. 

After that, it was hard to stop. The pressure from studying and working and being the only functional parent in Jade’s life was so much that her patience wore thinner each day. Screaming at him was cathartic, in a messed up way. They’d get so lost in these fights, she was sure he didn’t even know what he was saying half the time and she didn’t either, but it hardly mattered. 

On weekends, she’d take Jade out of the house just to get away from him. She’d bring her camera but often found that the world just seemed less beautiful than it used to, and she was so, so tired of trying to find pretty things.

***  
Eventually, Cliff found a job, which was good because it gave Ellen time to worry about her license. The course was almost halfway done, and if she could drop some of her shifts, she could organize her time more productively. 

It was hard to drop shifts though, her boss sometimes sent her to shadow another employee so she could learn the lingo and “get a feel” for the job, but she was convinced. It was a nice atmosphere, she liked many of the people she worked with, she loved getting to see different houses and designs, meet different families. It wasn’t the job she’d dreamed about, but she liked the work, and she wanted to be good at it. 

Ellen took on the extra work if her boss offered it. Filled in wherever she was qualified. Once, he sent her alone to a house in Calabasas because the buyers couldn’t make the inspection and neither could any of their agents. She was determined to present professionally, see if she could trick the inspector into thinking she was an agent and not just in training. 

But then the inspector made a joke about emo bats in the attic, named one of them Bruce, and spent an inordinate amount of time assigning different Batman names to every one of the two dozen bats in the colony. 

It was so lame that she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. Even though it meant the buyers would probably bail out. She joked that maybe she could market it as the bat cave, and some nerd somewhere would still buy it. 

“I mean, if I could afford it…” he smiled, stepping down from the ladder, and Ellen noticed he had the cutest butt-

-she couldn’t believe that she had to remind herself that she was a married woman. 

He gave her his business card at the end, and she tucked it away in her wallet. Matthew Thomas. For when she got her license. In case she ever needed to have him inspect another house. 

She wrote the test in March.

Jade had no clue what they were celebrating when Ellen took her for smoothies after school. She had an idea that it was “something to do with houses” which made Ellen smile and laugh, because yes, she’d spoken a lot about houses in the past two months. But she pulled out the letter she’d received that morning, with her certificate and license, and even though Jade still didn’t get it, she smiled and congratulated her. 

When she showed Cliff, he was less impressed. He didn’t think she should be worrying about work, and “what happened to those stupid little pictures you used to take?” 

The “stupid pictures” were in boxes in the basement, she’d grown tired of hearing his opinion of them. Sometimes, even when she could find the right shot, find something beautiful, she’d let it pass by just so she wouldn’t have to listen to him make fun of it later. She’d stopped taking her camera with her when she left the house.

Ellen was adamant about the job, despite his protests. He tried to convince her she wouldn’t like it, that she should wait until Jade was in middle school. He told her she’d be bad at it, that her boss only complimented her work to get her into bed; and if she didn’t realize that yet, then how stupid was she? 

The first listing she sold was a small, Spanish-style home on Gilson. The buyers were back-and-forth for a while and the seller gave three counteroffers before they were settled, but it wrapped up neatly with few loose ends, and the buying couple even took a few of her business cards for their friends. 

She came home with a new briefcase and he yelled at her for “frivolous expenses”. That’s when she decided she wanted her own bank account. 

Cliff had two: their shared account and his private one. If he got to have his own money, she should too, so she filled out the paperwork. But when he saw it on the table he started tossing out accusations. Asked if she was planning on leaving him, told her she didn’t need her own money, that she was being selfish. When she asked why he got to have his own money, he accused her of not trusting him, and Ellen decided that it wasn’t worth the hassle. The fights between her and Cliff had mostly stopped, and she didn’t want the bank account to be the thing that sent them down that path again. 

They’d stopped screaming, stopped fighting. Ellen hoped that the next best step was to work on rebuilding her relationship with Cliff. The stress of losing his job and dealing with his addiction had been hard on their marriage, but a little effort on her part, and she was sure she could recapture that perfection from when Jade was still an infant. 

But then she’d go to a home inspection and she’d catch herself flirting with Matt. Which was absolutely not allowed.

When he asked if she wanted to grab a coffee after one of their appointments in May, Ellen couldn’t find it in herself to say no. It was a professional courtesy, she decided. 

She spent the time telling him about husband and daughter. Namely to remind herself that she was taken, and more importantly, absolutely devoted to Jade.

He asked if she had any pictures. She showed him the one in her wallet.

“Cute kid.”

“Oh, and so goofy!” and before she could stop herself, she was dorking out about her child. How smart she was and all the books she could read and, “it’s like a superpower, I don't know how she does it, but she can look at things and know how big they are.” How funny she was “but she tells really weird jokes. I didn’t know kids could have a dark sense of humour but, I guess.” At some point she realized that he was only inches from her, both of them leaning into the table. 

His eyes kept flitting between her face and the picture in her hands. Every time they’d land on her, she could feel her cheeks burning. 

“Anyway,” and she leaned back to put distance between them again. 

She was married. Married. Married, and not allowed to have a crush on the funny home inspector with the cute butt. 

“She sounds great,” he told her, then he flashed her a smile that absolutely didn’t melt her insides. 

Not even a little. 

Desperate to move past the flutter in her stomach, Ellen moved on with the conversation. “So, uhm, how about you? Do you have any kids?”

He smiled again, almost bashful and leaned back with his coffee, “Nah, haven’t met the right partner. Hopefully soon though, I don’t want to miss out on my childbearing years.” 

Ellen stifled a small laugh, “yeah, you wouldn’t want to end up a spinster.” 

“My father is prepared to offer ten cattle, but so far no suitors are interested.”

“I find that hard to believe.” 

Shit. Married women didn’t say things like that to funny home inspectors with cute butts, “I mean- I think you’ll..uhm,” she stumbled over her words and took a sip of coffee to recover, “you seem like you’d be a good dad.” 

“I hope to be.”

Ellen didn’t know how he was able to change from joking to sincerity without missing a beat, but he did. Everything he said made her want to stay in the coffee shop and keep talking until it closed, and she knew that was counterproductive to her marriage. 

But the silence was even worse. His gaze was so warm and inviting, and she had to battle the urge to lean in just to be close to him again. 

So she kept up the conversation, “do you want a boy or a girl?” 

He pursed his lips in thought and let out a low hum. Ellen smiled to herself while she watched him consider it, “One of each.”

Ellen had to admit, that sounded pretty good. 

***

She knew Cliff wouldn’t want another baby, and she was busy trying to rebuild the relationship, so she never even brought it up. 

It took two people, though, to work on a partnership. And while Ellen was feeling guilty over her minor flirtations with a man she saw maybe once every two months, she noticed that Cliff was coming home with stray hairs on his suit. Red hair, blonde hair, black hair, and sometimes he smelled like a different perfume. Vanilla one night, roses another, blackberries, spices, apples. It got to the point where she couldn’t ignore it anymore, because she couldn’t be the only one trying to make things better. 

So they started fighting again. 

The first time he hit her, she tried to convince herself it was a one-off. That she’d pushed him too far, and he didn’t even hit her that hard anyway, so why was she even thinking about it? Next time, she wouldn’t toss baseless accusations at him, she’d believe his lies.

It didn’t matter what she did, it became a regular thing. But it didn’t scare her, it just made her fight back. She’d hit him, or throw things at him, let herself lose control until they were both shaken up fairly evenly.

Only Cliff never looked roughed up the next day. Never had any bruises. Meanwhile, she wore long sleeves no matter the weather and had to switch to a more effective concealer. 

Once, after a particularly violent fight, the police showed up. They asked her some questions and she lied through them. She’d put on a turtleneck the moment she saw the flashing lights from her bedroom, still shaking from the intensity of his hand around her throat even though it was gone now. There were no other visible bruises.

She tried to stay calm. Ellen didn’t want to give them any more reasons to be suspicious, but if they entered the house, they’d find the broken glass still in the kitchen from when she’d thrown the vase. 

Then, they’d take Jade away. 

So she pretended, to the best of her ability, that everything was fine. The police were still suspicious when they left. She swept up the glass in the kitchen, then tore downstairs to check on Jade who was thankfully fast asleep. 

She smiled in spite of the situation: this kid could sleep through anything. Always could. Ellen curled up behind Jade, pulled her close and kissed the top of her head and played with her hair. As long as Jade was safe, nothing else mattered. 

It never crossed her mind that she might be a problem. But then, Ellen hit her. Really hit her, and she never felt so lost. How she could have ever done that was beyond her, but she couldn’t possibly forgive herself for it. She spent the whole night wide awake, half wishing she could disappear without a trace, but that wouldn’t change what happened. Jade deserved a better mom, so that’s what she needed to be

She reminded herself that she was the parent, she didn’t get to act like this. She had a responsibility to pull every last shattered part of herself back together and do better. 

And she needed to leave Cliff. 

One of her coworkers gave her the number for a shelter, but Ellen wasn’t eager to use it. Some nights were bad, but most of the time they just ignored each other. Jade still had two more weeks of school, but more importantly; she was getting really...happy about something. Every morning, for the past month, when Jade got out of the van at school, she whispered a countdown for film camp. Ellen was fairly sure that it was a private countdown, so she never drew attention to it out of fear it would stop. It was adorable. 

The shelter was probably meant for women in immediate crisis, anyway. For when they had no money, and nowhere else to go. 

She wasn’t in that situation, didn’t want to be. Didn’t want to put Jade there, so she opened up a private account with another bank. That time, she was sure to hide the paperwork, and she siphoned off small amounts of her salary into that account so she could save up and leave him. 

In August, she tried to say something about it. He’d been more hostile in the recent weeks, and rather than waiting for the tension to break in another fight, Ellen thought it was the right time to mention the divorce. He slapped her before she could finish asking. 

When Jade said he’d left, and that he wasn’t coming back, Ellen didn’t believe it. She didn’t know how long he’d stay away- but she knew it wouldn’t be forever. It never was. Probably a couple of weeks, a month at most, if he was really upset. 

She didn’t talk about it. Jade had been telling anyone who would listen about the camp’s musical, and Ellen thought that it was important for her to be focused on the things that made her happy. If she wanted to talk about her lines or songs instead of Cliff’s disappearing act, that was fine. 

Then he didn’t come to the show, and Ellen came down the next morning to Jade’s destroyed bedroom and she could feel every ounce of her child’s heartbreak. In the second it took for Ellen to see the broken glass and tossed around objects, Clifford West became dead to her. 

In mid-September, half the money in their shared account was withdrawn. That’s when she knew that he wasn’t coming back. 

So she moved on with her life.

***

When Jade quit acting in September, Ellen knew something was wrong. She spent the next month trying and failing to start conversations with her daughter, giving Jade every opportunity to open up, but she kept pulling away.

Sometimes, they’d be in the middle of an argument, and Ellen would hear words and phrases that had been burned into her memory from constant repetition years ago. Those always scared her, because she knew exactly where they were coming from, and she couldn’t imagine a context in which her baby could have heard them without hurting.

After the first week of October went by, and Jade still hadn’t changed her mind about acting classes, Ellen sat down with Matt and told him she wanted to challenge Cliff for custody. That she’d chosen a lawyer and didn’t want to wait. She’d still not heard anything from Jade about Cliff, nothing that explicitly confirmed her suspicions anyway. Just more of those words and phrases. But she knew the potential was there, and it scared her. 

There were insults he used to throw at her to catch her off guard, nicknames he’d give her, compliments he never meant, arguments he’d start only to insist that she was the crazy one: would he do any of that to Jade? 

She’d be stupid to think he wouldn’t.

Classic Ellen.

“I need to get her back… I never should have- I-”

“Shh, hey,” Matt assured her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, “we’ll figure this out. It’ll be okay,” he squeezed her tight against his side, “you made the decision you thought was right.”

But she shook her head and laughed, “no, I let him scare me,” she clarified. When he’d come back, he’d made it very clear that he was in a position of financial power. Because of course, he was, he always had been. 

Then he said he wanted Jade and she all but laughed in his face. 

He laid out all these statistics about single moms, studies about kids growing up without their dads. When that didn’t work, he started listing all the ways in which she’d already failed as a parent. What ultimately forced her to reconsider, however, was when he said that he was prepared to push for full custody. That he already had a lawyer, a great one.

It still scared her, but she couldn’t keep watching her daughter fall further and further away, so she called the lawyer and told Cliff she was challenging him. He agreed to keep news of the custody battle between the adults: agreed that telling Jade about it would “add unnecessary stress at a time when she should be focused on success”. It was the most civil part of their conversation. 

*** 

They were able to keep up switching off week by week while their lawyers struggled to find an agreement during mediation. When it was still going on in December, Ellen was worried they’d end up in court. 

Some nights, especially after a fight with Jade, she thought about taking her daughter and refusing to let her leave when Cliff came to pick her up. Once, maybe twice- okay five times- she thought about killing him. But that was only after Jade quit piano and stopped smiling completely. 

Matt was the first to recommend therapy. Ellen agreed, but they were dealing with legal fees in the tens of thousands and decided to wait until they knew if this was going to court or not. 

Their lawyers were still in mediation, but Jade was getting worse and Ellen was terrified. “I swear, one more red flag, and we’ll ask about a court date.” 

Matt wrapped his arms around her from behind, effectively stopping her as she paced, “you make the call,” he kissed her cheek, “we’ll work this out.” 

The next red flag showed itself later that week when Jade refused dinner. This was a fight they had regularly, and Ellen noticed that it was happening more than it used to. But the fight itself wasn’t the red flag. It was the phrase “you don’t know shit.” 

Ellen thought it sounded almost incomplete without her name tagged on at the end.

She pleaded with Jade to talk to her, but it fell on deaf ears. After that fight was over, she marched upstairs and told Matt that she was making the call first thing in the morning, “She’s not spending another minute with him.” 

But then, she got a call from Jade’s school. She watched as the officers showed her proof of a disturbed and angry child, her child. Each note and drawing was like a knife to her stomach, and she wasn’t surprised in the least when Jade was expelled.

Ellen waited so she could calm herself down. She knew all too well that going into a conversation while angry was never a good idea. She picked Owen up from daycare, cleaned the dishes, ordered pizza; all while trying to figure out how she wanted to approach the topic. Calm, rational, compassionate. 

But it didn’t work out like that. 

When she came up after the fight, she told Matt all about what happened. He was good at that: listening. But instead of comforting her, like he always did, he just stared at her and asked, “you said what?” 

Then, they fought. It wasn’t mean, petty, loud, or violent like her fights with Cliff. It was still unpleasant, still intense. 

Still left her feeling completely worthless. Especially after he came back from talking to Jade and went straight upstairs to their bedroom. 

Ellen stayed awake. Twice, she thought about going down to check on Jade, but Matt’s attempt at talking to her had apparently been unsuccessful, and maybe the best thing to do was try again in the morning. 

Matt was already sleeping when she climbed into bed next to him. She spent the next hour tossing, as gently as she could, trying to find a better position to sleep in but she just couldn’t shut her brain off. At 11, she went to check on Owen, just for something to do, and for the third time thought about checking on Jade.

But she wanted to wait until she was sure she wouldn’t do any more damage. Ellen thought she’d given herself enough time earlier, but clearly not enough. She needed to know that she wouldn’t say anything she’d regret before she tried again. So instead, she stayed in Owen’s room, stroking his hair while he slept. Her little man, and in an hour he’d be a toddler. She wanted to freeze the moment and stop him from growing up. Before his problems became too complicated for her to solve. Before she had the chance to ruin him. 

Classic Ellen. 

After half an hour, she could finally feel herself getting tired. She crawled back into bed and smiled when Matt rolled over and draped his arm across her, still very much asleep. 

Everything would be fine in the morning. 

But when she woke up, it was three am and she had a long time to think about the myriad of things that could go wrong. 

***

When the alarm started blaring hours later, Ellen was still lost in thought.

Matt stretched his arm across her to turn it off, then rolled back into his previous position on the other side of the bed. There were a few minutes of silence before he got up and started getting dressed, “Did you get any sleep at all?” 

“Yeah, a bit.”

He looked back at her, the corner of his mouth twitched in a sympathetic smile, “I’ll put on extra coffee.”

She just nodded, still laying in her spot on the bed, watching him as he moved around the room. When he had his shirt buttoned up, Ellen supposed there was no use putting it off any longer and got out of bed to rifle through the dresser for clean clothes. 

While she was looking, Matt came up from behind, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her on the cheek, “you know I love you, right?” 

Despite everything, she smiled. She sank back into him, bringing her hands to his arms and enjoying the embrace. “I know.” 

“I’m sorry about last night, I shouldn’t have ignored you like that. I got upset… she...well-”

Ellen knew what must have happened, and she knew how hard it was for Matt to be reminded that he wasn’t Jade’s dad, so she cut him off “-you are exactly the kind of man I always wanted to raise my kids,” she turned around and draped her arms over his shoulders, he kept his hands on her waist, “and I am so grateful that you love her as much as you do,” she placed a hand on his cheek and stroked it with her thumb. 

“I’m going to call the lawyer today,” she resolved, trying to see if that might cheer him up, “soon we won’t have to worry about him… we can start over.” She wanted to give him a reassuring smile, but her eyes were dull and it didn’t work out as she’d hoped .“And I’m sorry too.” 

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” 

He was right. 

But first, she had to get Owen ready. “Happy Birthday baby,” she cooed as she gently woke him up. She put him in the duck shirt she’d bought, and he started clapping and quacking, bringing a genuine smile to her lips like it was the easiest thing to do.

Matt made waffles, which Owen devoured, covering himself with syrup in the process, “Oops mommy. Mess!”

Ellen had already cleared her schedule yesterday when Jade got expelled, but when Matt offered to take Owen to daycare on his way to work, she thought it might be a good idea to give Jade some extra attention. Especially since he would have been at daycare anyway.

She kissed them both at the door (Matt once on the lips and Owen once on each cheek, once on the top of his head, and once on his nose) and watched them pull out of the driveway. They returned after a minute, though, because Matt forgot his wallet, but he couldn’t find it on the table by the key dish, “huh, must have left it somewhere- I’ll have to call the credit card guys, I hate that,” then he left again and Ellen was alone. 

At 8, she wondered if Jade was up yet. Maybe she should wake her, and she even walked down the stairs and raised a hand to knock at the door before backing out. She waited another hour. 

When Jade didn’t answer her knock, she entered anyway. Then her heart stopped and the world froze. She checked the house, just to be sure she wasn’t “pulling an Ellen”, and checked it again, but there was no avoiding it. Jade was gone. 

She called the police first, and they said that, aside from a report, there was little they could do about teenagers who willingly run away. “Teenager? She’s eleven!” Then they asked about patterns of behaviour “I mean, she got expelled yesterday” and about if she’d ever snuck out before “No, never, I mean- I never saw…” but she supposed that didn’t mean it was impossible. 

They said they’d make a file, send some guys out to patrol the area, but that since she’d ran away there wasn’t much they could do.

What the fuck? 

Then she called Matt, barely breathing and feeling like she might pass out at any minute. It was all she could do to stop herself from running up and down the street, even though she knew that wouldn’t work. 

“Honey, honey, hey,” he spoke into the phone and she tried to let his voice soothe her but it didn’t, “I’ll call my boss, I’m turning around. Have you called Cliff? She might be with him?” 

“Or maybe she’s lying in a ditch somewhe- oh my god,” even the thought made her stomach churn, “ I can’t- I-”

“Okay, I’ll deal with Cliff. I’ll call him, and you just....I’ll be home soon.”

But she couldn’t wait for him. Desperate, she went to grab her keys but saw they were missing. Apparently, everything was missing today- awesome- and she started pacing while she called Matt back, but he didn’t answer. He pulled into the driveway half an hour later.

Before he was even out of the car, she was asking about the call to Cliff, but Jade wasn’t there either. 

“Okay, my keys are gone, so give me yours.” 

“What?” 

“I’m going to drive around- see if I-”

“- You’re not going to find her by driving around.”

“I don’t care!” and she lunged forwards to grab them from his hands. 

He jerked away and looked at her, staying quiet for a few moments then he sighed. “Come here,” he pulled her close and held her there. She struggled for a moment, trying to break out of his hold so she could get into the car, but settled into the embrace. “If you want to drive around, we can do that,” he said, “but you barely slept, and you’re in no condition to be behind the wheel right now,” he kept an arm around her shoulders as he walked them over to his car, “I’ll drive.”

They spent the whole morning driving down different streets. Side streets, main streets, streets that she hoped her child would never think to visit. Ellen stared out the window, her panic subdued but not gone. 

“I called the daycare, told them what’s going on,” Matt informed her once he noticed she’d settled, “they said they can keep Owen a little late, Kelsey even offered to take him somewhere special after if we need more time,” Kelsey was Owen’s favourite staff member at the centre, they’d used her as a babysitter twice before. “I also called Susan, and she said she’d call her guy in force,” good, Susan was a social worker, she knew all about this kind of thing. “We’ll find her,” he took a deep, shaky breath, “she’ll be okay.”

Ellen nodded and absentmindedly placed her hand over his on the stick shift but kept staring out the window. 

As the day went on, she felt more detached. The world was absolutely chaotic, nothing made any sense, and it wouldn’t until she knew that Jade was okay. 

She got the call at quarter past four. Jade had been found, she was at a police station in West Hills, safe. “Her father is coming to get her.” 

No. No, no no. She spent the better part of an hour arguing with the officer on the phone before he said that Clifford was there, and Jade was going with him. She supposed, one more night wouldn’t hurt, the important thing was that she was warm, fed, clean, and safe. Matt pulled her into his side, and she finally cried into him. It’s what she’d been waiting to do all day. 

An hour later, she got a call on her cell. From Cliff. 

“She’s in the shower. Minor concussion, but mostly, I think she’s just tired,” for the first time in ten years, she could tell he was being sincere, he wasn’t trying to pick a fight. “But she’s safe.”

“Thanks. I’ll call her later.” 

“Not tonight, she needs to sleep.”

Ellen could feel another wave of tears coming up, “tomorrow then,” her voice quivered along with her lip, “I’ll call her tomorrow.” 

The other line was silent for a second, then, “Goodbye, Ellen.” 

She bit back tears the whole way home. 

***

Matt left to get Owen and Ellen tried to do what she would on any other day. She did the dishes from that morning (having left them on the counter in a panic), started dinner but burned it. Checked the mail where she found her keys along with Matt’s wallet. She set them back down in their designated spots beside the door and waited for him to get back with her son. 

Owen, completely oblivious to the day’s crisis, was in a great mood. He blabbered on about his day, how he had cake and how Kelsey took him to the petting zoo to see the ducks, “BABY duks too, dukings!” 

“That’s great baby,” she tried to listen, tried to be as excited as he was, but she couldn’t match his energy. She was thankful when Matt came out with mac n cheese and declared it a movie night. “Do you want to open presents first?” 

“Presets on Sumday!”

She looked at Matt for an explanation, “I thought it might be a bit much trying to do it all tonight,” he whispered while Owen watched the previews “ Told him we’re doing cake and presents with Susan and Karl on Sunday, buy us some time. Hope that’s okay?” 

Ellen nodded and mouthed, “thank you.” 

Owen fell asleep before the movie finished, and Ellen pulled him close holding him like a lifeline until she fell asleep too. 

When she called the next day, Jade didn’t want to talk to her.

Clifford came by for some extra clothes and told her she should call her lawyer. They had a court date set for the 27th.

Ellen called first thing on Monday morning while driving to a showing in Pasadena. She tried to stay focused on the features of the house but often found herself getting distracted by anger directed at Cliff. Or apprehension at the oncoming custody battle. Or grief for her child who she still hadn’t spoken to (she’d called again on Sunday to tell her that Owen loved his spider, but Cliff answered and said that Jade wanted to be left alone). 

At two, she felt a stabbing pain in her head, and the Advil she took did nothing to help. She managed to finish up her last listing but was starting to feel dizzy and nauseous on top of the searing pain behind her right eye. Her dad used to get migraines, and she knew that’s all it was, but it made it hard to focus on the road.

Owen was his usual bubbly self when she picked him up at daycare, but she never noticed before how loud he was. He was trying to tell her something about his spider, but all she could focus on was the throbbing in her head, “shh, baby, mommy needs quiet.” 

But he kept talking, somehow louder than before. 

Matt got home ten minutes after she did. She passed Owen off to him and went upstairs without another word, curled into bed and pulled the covers up to block out the light. When Matt came up several hours later, she pretended to be asleep. 

She called in sick the next day but hardly got a break from working. Her lawyer sent a copy of her case so far, and she reviewed it until it was memorized. 

Ellen didn’t call in sick again that week, but her migraines came back on Thursday and Friday. She still couldn’t believe how fast this was happening. After six months of endless back and forth, there was a court date and it was six days away. She wondered if Cliff had greased any palms, but doubted even he had the money to bribe himself into an immediate court date. 

Maybe she’d failed spectacularly enough that his lawyer was able to make a case against her. Able to convince a judge that Jade needed to be removed from Ellen, immediately. 

She spent the whole night throwing up. 

Matt also booked the 27th off. He drove her to the courthouse and waited on a bench outside. He wasn’t allowed in. It was supposed to be just the parents, their lawyers, and the judge.

Cliff looked smug as ever when he sat down across from her and she tried not to let it show that she hadn’t slept at all the night before. 

Ellen went first. Her lawyer talked about Cliff’s drinking and his patterns of abuse. Talked about how Ellen earned a steady income and had been raising this child for 11 years. 

The case put forward by Cliff’s lawyer was convincing, well supported, and included statements from psychologists. The entire time, she stared at him, shaking her head whenever it was implied that Jade’s mental health was better off in his hands. At one point, she even interrupted but kept it brief in fear of coming off too unhinged, as his lawyer was insinuating. 

In the end, it was just a better argument. Even though it was completely wrong. 

When she staggered out of the room, Matt met her almost immediately, eyes searching her so he wouldn’t have to ask if they won or not. 

They didn’t. 

He held her while she cried into him, pressing his nose into the top of her head. Ellen could feel him blinking back his own tears, but she couldn’t do anything about it. 

Cliff cleared his throat and started speaking, but Ellen didn’t care what he was saying. She marched up to him and drew her hand back. Matt caught up to her before she could slap him, which Cliff found very amusing. 

“Good man of yours, keeping you from doing more damage. I doubt an assault charge would help in a time like this,” he sounded bored. He always sounded bored.

“You’re an ass,” she spat, and he simply shrugged. 

“Maybe, but I won,” he said like it wasn’t a big deal. Like losing wasn’t tearing Ellen apart as she stood there, trying not to rip him to shreds, “says a lot about you, doesn’t it?” 

How a single person could be so arrogant was completely beyond her, and she couldn’t fathom how she’d stayed married to him as long as she had. He was a monster. But, legally, there was nothing she could do about it. 

“We’re done here, Cliff” Matt growled at him before Ellen had the chance to tell her ex-husband to fuck off. Matt was still holding her, rubbing her arms in a vain but desperate attempt to comfort her, “I think you should leave now.” 

He raised his hands in mock defeat, scoffed, then swaggered out of the courthouse. 

She glared with contempt down the hall where Cliff had walked out. She thought of her daughter, stuck with him now, and shook her head, resolve stiffening “We’re not done until she’s home.”

He gave her a little squeeze and pressed a kiss into her temple, “still got some fight, huh?” 

Now that her tears were gone and she’d worked through some of the initial loss she’d felt at the end of the trial, Ellen was left with burning rage and a desire to watch Clifford get run over by a bus- ideally, one she was driving. The inaccuracies of his case worked like gasoline on fire, and she knew the feeling would only go away once she had Jade safely back in her arms. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat “Tons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Specific trigger warning: mention of strangulation. ***
> 
> This was never planned, but I started writing it as a side project a couple months ago, and eventually it took on enough of this story that I thought I'd include it as a chapter. My friend and I have been calling it "The Ellen Interlude" 
> 
> I was going to ask permission about the change in perspectives, really. Like back in chapter 20, I was going to ask if this was something anyone would be interested in, but then I wrote it anyway. After this, I'm returning to Jade and her point of view, but I thought I'd publish this anyway. 
> 
> If it wasn't for you, I'm sorry. Next chapter will be similar to before. 
> 
> If you liked it, I'd love to hear about it. 
> 
> As always, Thank you for reading
> 
> -Trashdove.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments on the Ellen Interlude, I really appreciate them! Now, back to regularly scheduled Jade. Also, keeping up with Nikelodeon's "not brands" but also trying to stay honest with the time period. Iphone/pearphone isn't out yet, but the Blackberry was lit, so please welome the "Razzberry" in it's stead.

The knocking woke her quite suddenly, and Jade couldn’t imagine what was so important that she needed to be awake this early. “Mmm,” she grumbled, not even sure why she bothered, Ellen would just walk in anyway. 

But as she rubbed her eyes and blinked in the room around her, she saw her white desk, her bookshelves, her moths, and Dexter. Still confused and sleep hazy, it took her a minute to remember why she was at her dad’s condo.

And she wished she hadn’t woken up at all. 

“Jade?” her father’s voice was muffled by the wood, but she could tell there was a hint of concern in it. “Are you awake yet?” 

She pulled the covers over her head to block out the light and tried to go back to sleep. Her whole body was empty with exhaustion, and she wasn’t ready to start the day. Too soon. Maybe in another year, she could join the world. Or maybe the universe would finally take pity on her, and she just wouldn’t wake up again.

But she did. Disappointing. 

She stayed in bed, staring at the clock on the wall across from her, 3 pm. The hands kept moving, even though she couldn't feel time passing and everything was frozen. It stayed that way until her dad knocked at her door again two hours later. 

“I-” another knock, “I’m coming in, so,” the concern from earlier was still there. Amplified now to the point where another person would be able to detect it. 

When the door swung open and he entered the room and saw her sitting up, he let out a heavy sigh, “good, you’re awake. I figured you’d be tired but I didn’t expect you to sleep all day.”

“Sorry.”

But he waved a hand passively and moved to stand by the foot of her bed. “It’s better for you to rest anyway,” silence, “It’s been hectic today, I was just going to get BF Wangs? You, uhm...sesame chicken? Right? And edamame?” 

Right, except she didn’t want to eat, “I don’t feel well,” which wasn’t even a lie. It wasn’t the same as yesterday, but there was still a dull pain sitting in the pit of her stomach. 

To her surprise, he didn’t try to talk her into eating. Just nodded, “the doctor said some nausea is normal. You want me to make you soup again?”

No. Whatever, “sure.”

“Okay.”

Jade wished she could read him the way she could read Ellen. He was so stiff all the time, and she wasn’t sure what he wanted from her right now. She knew she’d have to explain herself eventually, and soon he’d be bombarding her with criticism about- “I got expelled.”

“I know. That’s an issue for another day. We should focus on your concussion right now.” 

“But where will I-”

“-I’ll take care of it,” was all he said, then he held out a bottle of pills. She hadn’t noticed them when he’d come in. “Take two of these three times a day. Hadford’s had his fair share of concussions, swears by them.” 

Jade took the bottle and read the label “Cod liver oil?” even saying it out loud was disgusting, “gross, no.” 

“Just do it,” and he held out a glass of water for her too.

Reluctantly, Jade swallowed two pills which tasted exactly like she thought they would, except somehow worse. 

“I called your doctor this morning. You have an appointment next Friday. But in the meantime, she said you should stay in bed. No screens, no reading- yes, really,” he tacked on when he saw her bewildered expression. “I’ll be in my office, and- uhm- I’ll come back with dinner.”

“You’re not…” mad? But she didn’t want to say it, “I’m sorry, I’ll..” but she didn’t have an answer. She had no idea what the next step was. Find a new school...but when? Where? What if the subject materials didn’t line up? 

“It’s not your job to worry about these things,” he assured her, “It’s your job to do what I ask of you. So, if I tell you to rest, guess what?” 

“I should rest?” 

He nodded and left. 

Jade stayed in bed for the whole week. In and out of heavy sleep. If she was awake and in the mood (which was very rare, but it happened sometimes) she’d plug in her earphones and listen to music on her PearPod. 

Months ago, she’d gone through and deleted all the softer songs. There was no place for simpy lyrics about love, hope, or connection. Nothing in her lived experience told her that these were qualities worth longing for. All she wanted were songs about rage and pain. 

Real emotions that made people stronger.

At least, they had to. If they didn’t make her stronger, then what was the point? 

Jade was so hurt that she couldn’t get out of bed, even though she wasn’t supposed to anyway. She was so angry that being awake made her want to scream, and as much as she knew she was detestable by her own faults, she would never forgive her mother for making her realize it. 

And all that rage and pain had to make her stronger. Otherwise, she might as well give up.

Every night at around seven, her dad came in with the phone, “it’s Ellen.”

“Don’t care.” 

Then he’d leave again.

Jade wasn’t interested in anything her mother had to say. Besides, her week with her dad was almost up, and soon she’d be forced to listen anyway. She was glad for the respite that her dad had given her; didn’t want her mother’s interruptions. 

But Saturday came and Ellen didn’t. Jade sat on the couch all afternoon, bag packed and waiting. 

At around 4, she walked to her dad’s office and leaned against the doorframe, “she’s late.”

He kept typing as if he hadn’t heard her. 

“Dad.”

No answer.

“Dad!” 

“Hmm?” he looked up and saw her finally. “What is it?”

She held back her eye roll, but let out her sigh, “Ellen’s late.”

“Oh, she’s not coming,” then he turned back to his keyboard. 

Jade stood frozen in the doorway, head throbbing, heart pounding. “She…” 

“I’ll have full custody in a week anyway. The social worker thinks it’s fine for you to stay until it's settled in court,” he didn’t look up once while talking to her. 

“Social worker?”

“Yes, Jade,” he sighed, “when you get expelled and run away within the same day...usually they call in a social worker.”

“So...she’s not..” Jade struggled to find the words. It was a nightmare she’d been waiting for for years. Her mom was gone.

“She’s not coming, no. Oh, and you’ll need to give a statement to the psychologis....” and after that, all his words lost meaning. 

Too many memories of Ellen came flooding back all at once. The times she’d held her on the couch, stroked her hair, laughed with her. The piano lessons she’d given her, the acting classes, the fights. 

All gone now. Her heart sank in her chest, threatening to break worse than it had ever been before. She never even said goodbye. 

A week ago, she would have loved this news. But now that it was happening, the finality of the last fight with her mother hit Jade like a freight train as she tried to process that she’d never have to see her mother again. 

Her next inhale was deliberately heavy and slow. Trying to suck all her organs back into their proper place and drive all thoughts of her mother to the back of her mind where they couldn’t hurt her. 

This was exactly what she’d wanted. 

***

Her second week was spent figuring out homeschool. Her dad decided that it was the best course of action for finishing sixth grade. That they’d look into new schools for September so she wouldn’t stick out so much.

“Westbay might take you, but we’ll have to put a good case forward because of your permanent record,” he never talked about the expulsion, never said Emily’s name, “so your sole attention now is on excellence.” 

This was where she proved she was stronger. Rather than wallowing in her heartbreak, Jade threw herself into schoolwork. Even though she barely felt alive. Sometimes, she’d catch herself reading the same sentence over and over again, never taking in the information. 

It didn’t matter though. If Westbay would make her dad happy, she was going to go there, even if it was near impossible to complete the work, let alone do it well. She couldn’t risk disappointing him, not while she was desperately trying to stay with him. 

When he hired a tutor, she didn’t argue with him. If complacency is what it would take to stay with him until the court decided, then she would be complacent. 

Even after he was awarded custody, she kept her complaints about Olivia to herself. 

Olivia was from an agency. She came every afternoon at 2 and stayed until 4:30. She was far too bubbly, and clearly used to working with kids that weren’t that bright. Always tried to teach Jade mnemonic devices or stupid rhymes for even the simplest concepts. She had a sticker reward system too, which Jade supposed was intended to give her a sense of progression, but it just felt like pandering. 

Especially since she didn’t need the extra help. Now that there was no uncertainty of where she’d stay was gone, her focus was back, and it made worksheets so easy they were boring. 

There wasn’t anything else to do in the day. He left at 7:30, came back at 6, and her job was to spend that whole time making sure she’d have something worth his attention when he came home. 

Sometimes, she’d spend the whole evening on the couch across from him, waiting for him to talk to her, but he rarely did.

The onus to start a conversation fell on her, and there wasn’t anything else he cared about other than her academic success. She’d tell him about the worksheets she was doing, how it compared to the other school. Sometimes, he’d contribute, sometimes he’d quiz her on different concepts.

But then there were the nights when nothing she said held his interest. She’d tell him about a concept she’d learned, and he’d just crank up the volume on the television. .Or show him a worksheet with all right answers and a dozen stickers; tell him that she’d gotten a head start on the next unit, and he’d just nod with passive disinterest. 

So Jade tried harder. 

His reactions were inconsistent. Sometimes, he’d congratulate her, sometimes he’d ignore her, sometimes he’d brush the work off entirely. Homeschooling didn’t have formal assessments, so there weren’t any grades and “Westbay doesn’t care how many fucking stickers you get.” 

In April, she’d been worried that she wouldn’t finish sixth grade. But her constant grinding meant she was done a month early. 

Her reward was a tour of Westbay.

They waited in the main hall which looked about the same as her old school. Tidier, wider, but otherwise unremarkable. Jade shifted uncomfortably on her feet, pulling at the neck of the sweater he’d made her wear. It was the only piece of grey clothing she owned. 

After ten minutes, a woman walked up to them, her heels echoing in the vacant hallway, “You must be Mr West, hi,” she tucked a clipboard and a file underneath her arm and stuck out her hand to shake his, “I’m Mrs Jones, we spoke on the phone.” 

He made intense eye contact and flashed her a half-smile, “pleasure to meet you,” he shook her hand, trailing his fingertips across her palm as they broke contact. 

Jade knew at this point that he sounded different depending on who he spoke to. His current tone of voice was one she’d never heard before, but she knew exactly what it was. She hoped he wouldn’t spend the whole tour trying to flirt with Mrs Jones. 

“Introduce yourself,” he instructed her, grabbing her shoulder and pushing her forwards, “don’t be rude.” 

“Jade.”

Mrs Jones took her hand and shook it once before pulling the clipboard and file out from under her arm, “Shall we start then?” 

“After you,” the new stupid tone in his voice still hadn’t left and his eyes drifted to Mrs Jones skirt when she passed them. 

They turned down another hallway, “I know you’ve done your research, Mr West-”

“Cliff is fine.”

Mrs Jones ignored him and kept talking, “but Jade, let me fill you in on what we’re about at Westbay,” it was clearly the start of a well-rehearsed speech. “We believe that with curiosity, determination, and respect, every student can be successful.”

Jade took the moment to look at the mural on the wall opposite them. It was fairly bland, but those three qualities “curiosity, determination, respect” were woven into the design. 

Very well-rehearsed. 

Jade tuned her out as they walked down several more hallways with classrooms and lockers, but paid attention when Mrs Jones led them through stage doors that stepped out onto a large stage. There was tape on the ground to mark positions, and the black floor was covered with scuff marks from shoes. 

“We have several arts programs for our students, all of which continue into high school. Westbay’s highschool band just came in third nationwide, and each one of them started here. We also have regular art shows, and our drama program is currently working on a production of Seussical.”

For the first time since the tour started, Jade was interested. 

“We currently boast the largest auditorium of any middle school in the greater SoCal area,” Mrs Jones said. 

Jade turned on the spot, eyes fixed upwards to take in the size of it. It was smaller than the stage she’d performed on for Laurie, but not small. Certainly larger than she’d expect in a school, and though she didn’t have time to count the seats individually, she guessed it was somewhere around five hundred. 

She closed her eyes for a second, taking a mental picture of the stage and the rows and rows of red velvet chairs. Her year without acting was almost over, and she could feel the closeness creeping up on her, and she took the time to imagine how good it might be to perform on this stage.

Her whole perception of Westbay changed on the spot and it was no longer a school she had to get into just to make her dad happy. She wanted to go here. 

“Jade, keep up,” her dad called. He and Mrs Jones were waiting on the opposite side of the stage.

Mrs Jones kept talking as she led them through the gymnasium, but Jade didn’t care enough to listen. She nodded at all the right moments but didn’t absorb any new information as she followed Mrs Jones to the main office.

“Take a seat in here,” she instructed them, leading them into the principal’s office which looked like it belonged in a bank, “ Ms Feinman will be in shortly to talk about admission”

Jade sat in one of the cushy armchairs in front of the desk, her father beside her, “moment of truth,” he looked at her poignantly, “ Let’s hope your permanent record doesn’t fuck this up.” 

Jade was suddenly very aware of her hands but didn’t have time to do anything about it as Ms Feinman entered her office and sat down opposite them. 

“Mr West, Jade,” she greeted them, “it’s nice to meet you. Thank you for faxing over Jade’s record and transcripts, I’ve gone over them. Impressive,” but when she turned to Jade, she was rigid and stony-faced, “ However, we do not tolerate bullying of any kind. Students are to adhere to a strict code of conduct, and any rule-breaking results with swift action and discipline, when appropriate.” 

“Jade has learned from her significant mistakes,” her dad interjected, “She and I have discussed why her behaviour was unacceptable, and she’s committed to moving past it.” 

What? Jade shifted in her seat, trying to look like this was information she’d always been privy to.

“ I’m glad to hear you’re taking a proactive approach as her parent, but I’d like Jade to speak for herself.” 

Jade had spent a lot of time thinking about Emily in the past months, but she still didn’t have the answer she knew Ms Feinman wanted. 

After dissecting and analyzing every one of the insults and notes she could remember, Jade concluded that she was a plague on herself and everyone around her, and there were innate faults to her that she could ignore, but never change. 

But this wasn’t the time for honesty, so she didn’t say any of that. She worked off the foundation of her dad’s lie and kept going until she was sure she’d said enough.

It worked. 

Her dad was not in a celebratory mood that evening, however. He let her choose their takeout, but didn’t go so far as to book a table anywhere nice. 

Thai. 

He spent the time between bites telling her that the “real work” had scarcely begun, and she should be cautious of celebrating prematurely. 

“But I got in.” 

“Probation, is what Ms Feinman said,” he reminded her solemnly, “though, I suppose you’ve earned yourself a good break this summer. Shockingly, I won’t have to hire you another tutor until school starts up again.” 

Jade ignored him and kept eating.

Her mind wandered to the stage in the auditorium, and she found that her dad’s lack of enthusiasm did nothing to quell her own. It was a nice stage, there were so many lights hanging in the scaffolding, and it had been so long since she’d felt the warmth of performing.

Next year, she could be a part of the drama program. She wondered what musical they’d do. If it would be hard to find out right now so she could start thinking of an audition. 

She let that daydream carry her through the rest of the summer.

***  
For the first month or so, Jade was content to stay in the condo. Her dad left at 7:30 didn’t come home until 6, and she had the whole day to herself. Lately, the pages in her notebook were full of ideas for potential auditions and notes about acting that she’d jotted down to refresh her memory. She wasn’t going to make a fool of herself after taking a year off. She sketched stage diagrams to refamiliarize herself with the vocabulary and visited her old hobby of critiquing films. 

But eventually, spending hours upon hours in her room alone became too repetitive. 

That’s when she started taking the condo key and walking around Beverly Hills, laughing at tourists as they pointed at every single person, wondering if they were famous. 

When Beverly Hills got boring, she started bussing out to different parts of the city. There were really good food trucks around Echo park, some talented street performers that hung around West Hollywood, and tons of people on The Walk of Fame scamming tourists. 

There were other parts of the city too. Tons of grungy, niche little boutiques and antique shops. Tiny theatres dedicated to specific genres of film, some of which were so off the beat that tourists never went there. Museums of Hollywood’s “golden days” with old cameras and costumes from movies Jade hadn’t even heard of. 

If she was going to be alone anywhere, she was thankful it was in such a vibrant city. 

She spent most of her twelfth birthday alone at the Venice public art walls, taking in the bright graffiti and swarthes of buskers. One of her favourite food trucks had a location there, so she used some of the (excessive) birthday money her dad had given her to buy herself as many tacos as she could eat and several bottles of Mexican Coke. 

She hardly had any room for pasta when her dad took her out in the evening, but food was forgotten quickly when he showered her with gifts. Another necklace, a giftcard for peartunes, a new Pearbook, and a Razzberry. 

The best part though, aside from her time at the art walls, was when he took her to Blockbuster and let her pick out as many movies as she wanted. Then, stayed up with her to watch them on the couch, listened when she analyzed different shots out loud. 

It was perfect. 

Her mother sent a card, but Jade cut it up before opening it. Deleted the voice message before playing it. 

She had her dad. Didn’t need anyone else. 

But by the weekend, things with him were back to normal. He hardly spoke to her, and when they were on the last movie in the stack she’d chosen, she hardly got two words out before he told her to “shut up and quit reading into dumb shit”. 

Jade spent the rest of the summer bussing around during the day and making sure she was home before he was, in case he wanted to talk about anything. Or hang out, watch movies. 

He didn’t. But, just in case. 

She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Why she couldn’t hold his attention, or why he never came out of his office to talk to her. All she knew was that sometimes he was all in, and sometimes he might as well be gone. 

***

One afternoon in late August, two weeks before she started seventh grade, Jade decided to push her luck. 

All summer, she’d been coming home on time to be there with him, and it never seemed to matter. She spent the day hanging around her favourite theatre on Santa Monica blvd, sneaking into their 3 pm showing of some french film she wasn’t sure about, her backpack full of free snacks from the 711 a few blocks away. 

It ended at five (way too long, slightly boring, too romantic, but excellent cinematography) and the bus ride took a half-hour, so she wasn’t extremely late. Just enough to be there after him. 

Her dad’s Bentley was parked in its spot, so she knew he was home, maybe he’d gone straight to his home office like he usually did. 

She didn’t bother trying to be quiet; didn’t go out of her way to make noise, just didn’t try to silence herself. If he heard her, he heard her. When she reached his office, she could hear him clacking away at his keyboard through the crack in the door. 

Lately, her dad had been spending most of his time in the home office. Even eating dinner there. He never attempted to greet her when he got home and she realized how foolish it was for her to think he might notice that she hadn’t been home.

Deflated, but not surprised, she made her way to her room. 

All she had to do now was wait until he came out to turn on the tv so they could ignore the news and read. And maybe he’d talk to her, and maybe he wouldn’t, but it would be the only shared moment she’d have with him that day.

At 6, he knocked on her door and she invited him in, “I’m heading out.”

Which he never did. 

Dinner at 6. T.V at 8. That was how she’d spent every single evening for the past four months. Not that she had any problem with a break in routine, just why now? 

The only time he’d ever left the house before was a long time ago. Her heart jumped into her throat and her muscles tensed involuntarily, “where are you going?” she blurted out before she could even attempt to calm herself. 

Jade’s outburst drew his attention, and a slow smirk tugged at his mouth when he took in her tense state, “just getting milk,” he scoffed, then started typing again. 

She knew he was joking, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that he’d ever make that joke in the first place. 

He didn’t know she’d stayed up all night waiting for him to come back. That she spent the next month sneaking upstairs in the middle of the night just to make sure her mother hadn’t run away too. But he must have known that leaving had torn her to shreds. That it would have had a lasting impact on how she interacted with the world. And now he was making fun of her for it. 

Jade closed her hands into fists, and pressed her lips together to stop herself from shooting back at him; even though she knew what he was doing was wrong.

It made her blood boil. 

“Oh my god, get over yourself, it’s just a joke” he rolled his eyes as she sat there shaking with anger, “No, I’ve got a date. I should be back around midnight. Maybe later.” 

Jade was still trying to compose herself, but having an idea of when to expect him home took away some of the initial panic. Her hands were still in fists, but she acknowledged him with a nod and an “okay,” which she hoped didn’t betray the fact that she was still shaking, “wait what about dinner?” she could hear the demand in her voice. 

“There's cash in the envelope in the junk drawer. Take forty, or whatever.”

“Or whatever?” 

“Look, I’m going to be late. Just order yourself something,” he turned to leave but not before sighing out one final blow, “it’s not that fucking hard.” 

He didn’t close her door, and when he was out of the unit, she crossed the room and slammed it so hard the walls shook.

Jade spent the next hour and a half in her room. Earphones in, nodding along to her loudest music and meticulously cutting up an overread copy of Goosebumps: Welcome to the Deadhouse. It was her favourite back when she was seven, and when she looked down at the fragmented pages and torn apart cover, she felt a twinge of remorse. 

That copy got her through some of her parent’s earlier fights before they got so violent that she’d have to leave the house. At one point, she brought it with her everywhere she went, reading it obsessively because the horror in the Benson family home was entirely fictional.

Blood sacrifice was cooler than parents who were too busy yelling at each other. Much less scary. 

Jade took a handful of the ripped pages and a section of the cover into the kitchen, leaving the rest scattered across her bedroom floor. She took a mug down from the cupboard and filled it half-empty with the torn apart pieces in her hand. 

It took a few tries before she was able to strike a match, but once she had a flame she held it to the paper in the mug and watched as it devoured the pieces. It was over quickly, she tipped the ash into the sink and unceremoniously washed it down the drain. 

The pieces in her room were tossed in the recycling.

She forgot to order dinner, but when 8 pm hit, she went to the couch with a new book and turned on the T.V. A pot of coffee was brewing in the kitchen, and she switched through the channels until she found the news.

Even though he was out for the night, it was the only thing Jade wanted to do.

Being alone during the day was fine. Fun, even. But he was supposed to be home now, done work, and at least in the same room as her. 

What date lasted seven hours? Was their t.v time so insignificant to him that he could blow it off entirely? For some random woman that she didn’t even know? 

Did she matter to him at all? 

Her spiralling was interrupted by the phone ringing in the kitchen. She muted the T.V and hopped over the back of the couch, rushing to answer it in case it was her dad with an emergency. 

Like a ‘hey Jade, I changed my mind and I’m moving in with this woman to start a second family that you’ll never be a part of’ kind of emergency. But even if he did say that, maybe it would just be another joke. 

She took the phone off the charger and looked at the caller ID. It wasn’t him.

It was her mom. 

The calls were less frequent than they used to be but still happened every couple of weeks. Jade still hadn’t answered a single one. The practical thing to do would be to ignore it like she had all the others. So she let it ring.

Even though she was alone and spiralling, and wanted nothing more than someone to talk to her like she mattered. 

But that wasn’t Ellen’s job anymore. Jade didn’t want that from her. She wanted it from her dad, who was off God knows where and would only maybe come home when he said he would. 

If he came home at all. 

He’d been so unimpressed with her lately. Bored. The talk she’d had with him hours ago in his office was the longest conversation they’d had in weeks, and it was only five minutes. He’d spent half of it reprimanding her and half of it making fun of her.

The T.v was still on mute, and she hadn’t watched since the phone rang, so she turned it off. 

He’d told her not to wait up for him, but of course, she was going to. Just- in her room- so he wouldn’t see when he got home just how desperate she was. It might make a really funny joke. 

Her room was more comfortable anyway. Instead of sitting perfectly still on the couch, staring at the television; she could lay perfectly still on her bed, staring up at the ceiling fan. Or she could look around the room at all the things he’d given her. Her moths, many of her books, almost all her clothes...

It was 12:21, and he still wasn’t back yet.

...Her Pearpod, which she lifted to her face so she could shuffle through the songs she had. She put the earbuds in and cranked the volume to replace the buzzing in her brain as she frantically looked for any evidence that she mattered to him... 

12:57 and she’s yet to hear him come in.

...The necklaces he’d given her. The playbill from Wicked, which sat on one of her bookshelves. 

1:39.

Dexter. In his glass case on his shelf. She walked across and took the case in her hands, carrying him back to her bed. The day she’d chosen Dexter, her dad had praised her keen eye on insects, given her an old entomology textbook that she still hadn’t read. 

If she had read it, maybe they’d have more to talk about. He might find her interesting if she knew more about bugs. 

She could read it tomorrow, once she knew he wasn’t just leaving again.

1:41, he’d been gone almost nine hours. 

He wouldn’t, would he? Not after making a joke out of it. Not after giving her everything she asked for, and being patient while she read too deep into dumb movies. Not after taking her in, and fighting for her in court.

Not after Jade had cut Ellen out completely. 

She lay flat on her bed, placing Dexter’s case on her chest and holding it with both hands. Pressing him closer so she could still have some part of her dad if he didn’t come back. 

But he had to, Jade didn’t have anyone else to go to. She couldn’t go back to her mother, and even if she could, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Jade hadn’t seen her mother since April, and every time Ellen’s face flashed in her memory, it reminded her of that night when she finally realized that she should be scared of herself. And the weeks after where she was in so much pain she wasn’t even sure she was real. 

She never wanted to go back there. 

But what would happen if her dad’s joke about getting milk wasn’t a joke, and he was already long gone? What if...

...2:05, and she faintly heard the front door closing. She stayed in the same position for another ten minutes before sneaking out of her room and tiptoeing down the hallway. 

The door to his room was closed, but the light was on when it hadn’t been earlier. He was home, and Jade could finally sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, WHOOP broke my promise of shorter chapters. We'll see what happens next, and for sure there wont be any more 7000+ ones, but I am aware that this one is on the longer side. 
> 
> As always, 
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> -Trashdove.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow is this ever late. There's a lot I'm figuring out because so much of my draft work doesn't work anymore given the context of what I've already published here. So sometimes I'm writing these completely from scratch. Also: I finally figured out how to upload on here and have my italics and bolds stay unchanged, so I'm really happy that there's bold stuff.

Over the next two weeks before school started, Jade spent every waking moment thinking about his dumb joke about leaving, and the hours he spent with some woman whose name she still didn’t know. It was never intentional, and she tried to distract herself by spending hours at the theatre on Santa Monica, but even the comfort of the cool darkness and blaring soundtracks couldn’t stop the rising feeling in her chest that she would lose him. 

Then, she’d have no one. 

When the theatre was closed, or if it was showing a movie she had no interest in, Jade tried to drive away her anxieties by walking through the aisles of corner stores and cheap boutiques, collecting snacks she didn’t even like, jewellery she never wore, and sunglasses she lost five minutes after taking them. The rush of adrenaline while walking through scanners worked to lessen the constant tension, but it would return in full force not even ten minutes later. 

On the Sunday of the long weekend, her dad took her to a store close to Westbay’s middle school campus where they sold uniforms and other merchandise decorated with the school’s crest and colours. 

There were other kids in the store, but Jade didn’t pay them any attention. She was sure she’d have more than enough chances to meet them in the first week of school, and being around other people wasn’t in her comfort zone. Besides, they were all relatively indistinguishable as they came out of change rooms in identical shirts and pants. 

It should have been obvious, but back in June, Jade hadn’t realized she’d have to wear a uniform. She looked through the racks of identical polo shirts, skirts, and blazers, wondering whether or not the impressive auditorium could make up for the fact that she’d have to dress the same way every day for the whole school year. 

There were three colour options for polo shirts: burgundy, navy, or white. Girls could either wear grey slacks or grey pleated skirts. 

Six outfits. 

“The list says that the blazer is optional,” her dad pointed out as she pulled one off the hanger to try it on. It was the only part about the uniform even slightly exciting, black with an embroidered crest on the left. 

“I like it.” she turned around in front of the mirror, shoving her hands in the pockets and looking at the garment from all angles. 

“You’d do better to get some cardigans for November through March.”

“Why can’t I also wear a jacket in November through March?” she challenged him, mostly playful but with a hint of her usual boldness. If she was going to be dressed as a carbon copy of every other student, she could at least have a blazer. 

He sighed but didn’t stop her from adding it to their basket. Jade picked out a navy and a black cardigan, just to appease him, and then they moved on to the next store for her supplies. 

By the end of the day, there was roughly $900 worth of clothes and supplies in the backseat of her dad’s Bently. He kept drumming his fingers across the steering wheel as if trying to come to some conclusion. When he spoke, his words were deliberate, “so, you have all you need now,” he said, and Jade knew there had to be more. “Right?”

Jade kept all traces of caution out of her voice as she responded, “yeah,” even though she was twisting her fingers in her lap, waiting for the rest of whatever he had to say. 

“So there’s no excuses for a poor first week.”

Oh. That was the catch. She should have expected it, and rather than respond she just nodded. 

“I mean it, Jade. I just dropped 35 thousand for your tuition and another thousand today,” he complained, “so you’re not going to screw this up, right?” 

No longer content to twist her fingers, Jade started pressing on her knuckles. Hoping that sensation would help get rid of the tightness in her throat. Of course, she was planning on a good year. Why would she want anything else? 

But before she could respond, he kept talking, “because getting expelled from public school is one thing. I mean, it’s not like your education there was even remotely where it needed to be,” Jade could tell he was ramping up to another warning, but he was cut off by a car merging into their lane from seemingly nowhere. He leaned against the horn and muttered something under his breath. When the car was finally an appropriate distance ahead of them, he picked up where he left off, “but you got yourself a second chance here, and it’s a better school too. Even if Ellen didn’t think so,” Jade winced at the mention of her mother but hid the expression as her dad turned to her, “second chances aren’t a given. Don’t blow it.” 

“I won’t,” she assured him despite the churning in her stomach. 

He nodded his response and turned his attention back to the road. Jade tensed in her seat as the full impact of his words sank in. He barely spoke to her, made jokes about leaving, and if she screwed up at Westbay, she wasn’t going to get another chance with him. 

‘Second chances aren’t a given’ so third chances didn’t exist at all. She spent the rest of the drive trying not to breathe, scared that she might fall apart if she did. 

When they got home, Jade went straight to her room. The moment her door closed, she lost track of her breaths as they started choking her. Short, desperate, and rasping inhales that never seemed to carry enough air. 

Her legs wobbled and her head was spinning so she leaned against the door for some stability while she tried to get herself under control again. 

***

Labour day usually meant long drives up to Table Rock beach.

Jade couldn’t remember when the tradition started, all she knew was that the drives were some of her favourite memories of her mother. Even back when her parents were still together, it was something between just the two of them. Her dad was usually away or passed out or “not in the mood, Ellen.” 

So she and her mom went alone. Ellen would blare music and sing along throughout the whole three-hour drive. They’d stop at a different food truck every year, usually tacos or fries, and collect rocks and shells along the water. 

Matt didn’t join them until after Owen was born. He and Ellen usually had a playful fight over music halfway through the drive, but it resolved itself easily. Once, the resolution came when her mother’s favourite song came on, and Ellen started singing along; louder and more out of key than usual. Matt smiled and watched her, and the rest of the drive down was spent with the same 24 songs on loop from three different stations. Another time, Jade voted with Matt in favour of switching the music, and Ellen accepted her defeat. 

They’d spend the whole day at the beach. 

Jade stayed on the shore, sometimes playing in the sand with Owen while Matt and her mother cooled off in the ocean. Sometimes she sat while the three of them went off, smiling as her little brother toddled in the shallow waves. 

It was a good way to spend the last day of summer vacation, and a small part of Jade lamented over the fact that they would be doing it this year without her. 

She hadn’t completely dismissed the possibility that her dad had even better plans for labour day, but she did think it was unlikely. 

At ten, she dragged herself out of her room for breakfast. Even on weekends, it was common for her dad to spend the first half of the day holed up in his office, so Jade wasn’t bothered by the fact that the living space and kitchen were entirely abandoned. 

It was strange, however, that there wasn’t any coffee in the pot. Strange enough that Jade felt her heart rise as if in anticipation of dropping. 

But that was silly. Her dad was probably wrapped up in some file, hadn’t noticed the time and hadn’t thought to make himself coffee. If she made it for him, maybe that would be enough to convince him to leave his work alone for the day. They could swim in the pool, which is how they usually spent their weekends after he finished work (if they weren’t at the country club in Bel Air). 

She made enough for both of them, even though she wasn’t technically supposed to drink caffeinated coffee yet. If she knew what he took, she would have made him the mug, that way she could bring it straight into his office as a surprise. But he always stirred his mug in the kitchen, she didn’t know how much milk he took, or sugar, or if he took only one but not the other. 

Instead of risking it, Jade opted to let him stir his own mug, so she knocked at his office door to let him know there was a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen. 

It was typical for him to ignore her first two knocks, but when there was still no response after her fifth knock, Jade opened the door. Her heart fell from her throat to the pit of her stomach at the sight of his empty desk chair and the sinking realization that he wasn’t home. 

He must have thought that despite his warnings, she was bound to mess up at Westbay. Decided it was better to leave than wait for her to disappoint him. But he hadn’t even given her a chance yet, and how could he expect her to make him proud if he left before she even tried? 

The walls shook from the force she used to slam the office door, and her surroundings blurred as she made her way to her room. Breath shaky, she reached for her phone to call him, trying desperately to stop herself from falling apart before she had an explanation. And it was all really silly because as soon as she turned on her Razzberry, there was a message notification from him. She cursed herself for not checking sooner, and read it twice before letting out a frustrated sigh. 

**Smith invited me out on his boat. Be back later. Credit card on the counter for dinner.**

“Nice,” she muttered to herself, sarcasm seething through her voice as she did. 

Jade couldn’t believe she’d expected anything else. Stupid. If she hadn’t gotten her hopes up in the first place, made coffee like it might change anything, then she would have had a clear enough head to remember that she still wasn’t worth her dad’s time. She whipped the phone at the wall. Hard enough that it left an indent, but not enough to shatter the device like she’d intended. Heat spread throughout her body, but Jade wasn’t angry at her dad. 

Once again, she failed to be enough for him, but that wasn’t his fault. Even worse, she let herself forget that she still had work to do before she could hope to hold his attention. She smoothed a hand through her hair in a vain attempt to calm herself. There were only so many books on her shelf, and she didn’t want to destroy another one in her rage. 

Instead, she wandered into her dad’s office and grabbed the nearest stack of papers and cut them into hundreds of tiny pieces. 

Over the course of three hours, Jade drank the entire pot of coffee. She wasn’t used to caffeine, and always assumed adults were faking it when they said it gave them energy. In the mid-afternoon, every particle of her body was vibrating with a focus and drive she hadn’t felt before in her life. 

Her brain was working faster than usual, and she had greater control over her thoughts. Her active mind, for once, wasn’t synonymous with uncontrollable worry. She was able to direct every idea, and she hardly noticed the hours stretching by as she sat writing at her desk. 

At 7, she realized an entire day had passed. But she had 10 pages of a script that she’d been toying with since seeing the auditorium back in June. It was about a demon child who haunts an abandoned warehouse and the adults he is able to manipulate and murder through his supposed helplessness. 

She used her dad’s credit card to order pizza but only ate one slice, and spent the rest of the evening trying on each of the 6 possible outfits for her first day of school on Wednesday. Then, she tried them again but with the blazer to see if that made them look any better. 

Her dad still wasn’t home by 11, but Jade was wide awake and fidgeting. Not out of worry, because he’d texted her twice more throughout the day to make sure she was doing okay and that she’d gotten herself dinner, so she was confident that he’d be returning. 

Not worry. Coffee. 6 cups. Of caffeine, which earlier had made her brain focused and active, but now it was all just empty and she was still wide awake. 

She tried doing pushups on the floor to tire herself out, but it only increased her heart rate. Her next idea was a warm shower. Jade hoped the water would relax her, and it did but not enough to make her tired. 

At one in the morning, she conceded that it was time to be asleep, even though she still wasn’t tired. She tucked herself in and turned off the lights, laying still and wide awake for another two hours. She was asleep before Cliff got home. 

He was gone for work before she woke up the next morning. He went straight to his office when he came home, and didn’t speak to her once. 

***

Jade woke up earlier than usual on her first day at Westbay. She hadn’t spoken to her dad in two days and she was determined to have an interaction with him today. 

When she’d tried on her combination of polo shirts on Monday, she’d settled on Burgundy with the skirt and blazer for her first day.

But would her dad like the white one more? Did it look better? Cleaner?

Or maybe she should wear pants. Even though they were scratchy and uncomfortable. But if she wore the pants, should she wear a different polo shirt? 

Jade was well acquainted with the stiffness in her chest and the choking in her throat, but it had never happened over something as trivial as uniforms before. She spent forty minutes trying to come to a decision, all the while battling for air and trying to quiet her racing heart before it fell out of her ribcage. 

Eventually, she settled on the white polo, skirt, and blazer, giving herself one final once-over in the mirror before heading into the kitchen.

Her dad was already on his second cup of coffee, reading the newspaper at the table with a half-eaten bowl of cereal in front of him that had been abandoned long enough to turn to mush. By now, Jade knew to fix herself breakfast. He wasn’t going to do it. But she’d spent so long worrying about her uniform that there wasn’t time to do anything other than grab a banana and eat it on the drive. 

She doubted her dad would let her be late. 

When he finally looked up from his mug, he scanned her. Looking for anything out of place, “you’re supposed to have your hair up.” 

Jade couldn’t hide her annoyance that this was the first thing he’d said to her in more than 48 hours “Good morning to you too.”

He was not amused by her sarcastic greeting. He shot her a look that very plainly told her she should listen, then turned back to his coffee, “it’s in the dress code.”

Jade rolled her eyes but left to go back to the washroom so she could quickly pull her hair back into a loose ponytail before marching back to the kitchen. 

“Better?” 

He folded the newspaper and placed it on the kitchen table, he looked at her, then at his watch “you can fix it on the drive,” he said. “we have to get going.” 

Her second ponytail was worse than her first one, and as they sat in the heavy traffic on Santa Monica boulevard, she kept trying only to be met with a low, disappointed sigh and a “try again.” 

On her fourth attempt, she let out a frustrated groan and turned to him, “you know, I don’t see why it matters if I have my hair up.” 

“Do I need to remind you how lucky you are that they let you in in the first place? You’re on probation, they can kick you out for any reason they see fit,” it was an explanation Jade was intimately familiar with, she’d been listening to some version of this reminder for the past two months, though she hardly imagined ‘loose hair’ would be reason enough to expel her, “put your fucking hair up.”

She’d agreed not to screw this up, and as petty and insignificant a ponytail seemed to be; it was important to him. 

Jade looked back up at the mirror she’d pulled down and worked her fingers through her hair; trying to get each strand back without pulling on her scalp. Once the tie was twisted securely about halfway up the back of her head, she looked at her dad to wait for his approval. His eyes were trained on the road in front of him and didn’t turn to look at her even when she cleared her throat. 

When they pulled into the school, her dad’s Bentley hardly stood out. They were at the end of a long line full of shiny cars, and Jade heard her father mutter under his breath that he “should’ve gone with the Porsche.” They pulled forward bit by bit until she was at the end of the drop off zone, and he put the car in park as she undid her seatbelt and turned to open the car door. 

Before she could, her dad cleared his throat, “Good luck today,” then he offered her what might be a smile, but it was too early in the morning to be sure, “I, uh, can’t wait to hear about it later.”

Jade blinked at him in surprise. His moments of genuine support were so few and far in between, they always caught her off guard. She wasn’t even totally sure she’d heard him correctly- there had to be sarcasm that she hadn’t picked up on. 

At a loss of how to respond, she just opened the door, shouldered her bag, and slid out of the car, “bye.” 

Jade blended in seamlessly in the sea of uniforms. Navigating the hallways as if she’d always gone to school here. She found homeroom easily and took a seat at the back since there weren’t any names on the desk. Slowly, other students poured in and she was immediately annoyed when a boy sat next to her despite the five other empty seats in the classroom. 

She turned to glare at him, hoping it still worked. He locked eyes with her for only a second before scurrying off to a seat a few rows in front of her. 

Good. 

The bell rang and after the Anthem and the Pledge of Allegiance, her teacher led them into the auditorium for an assembly that lasted all morning. 

Ms Feinman started by welcoming everyone to a new year, reading over the school’s code of conduct, listing off the clubs and programs that would start on October 1st. She finished her speech by reminding everyone to be curious, determined, and respectful. 

Then, the choir came out and sang the school’s anthem. Jade didn’t know schools could have anthems, and after hearing one, she decided that they shouldn’t. 

After that, she stopped paying attention. She let her mind wander, briefly focusing on the stage just to think about how it deserved better than a pitchy under-rehearsed choir, but then lost interest in reality. 

It was this stage that had inspired her now 12-page script, and she tried to think about how it would look if set up to serve that story. 

_Decrepit backdrops, litter scattered across the floor. Minimal lights, barely enough to see the surroundings. No music, just the sound of rats scurrying._

_Enter a single, pale and emaciated actor. A boy. Young, like a little kid. Dirty clothes and unkempt hair, deep bags under his eyes, dried blood dripping from his nose and the corners of his mouth. He whispers “help me” then lets out a shrill laugh. His cries for help get more intense until he’s screaming and laughing, and still, no one comes..._

“Uh, hey, can you move?” the girl who’d sat beside Jade was standing, looking down at her annoyed. 

Everyone else in the auditorium was getting up, moving to get out of the seats. The assembly was over, but Jade kept thinking about the boy. 

Her afternoon classes were spent sketching stage diagrams, not listening to the review and only passively participating in icebreakers. When other students moved on to introduce themselves, Jade moved to the margins of her notebook where she drew rats and several rough drawings of the demon boy. With his sunken eyes and blood pouring from his nose and the corners of his mouth. 

It was, however, a fairly bland week. All review, and icebreakers and trying to glare at every person who dared approach her. Some people- like the ones who sent perfect girls with perfect parents and perfect braids to the hospital- just weren’t meant to make friends. 

Thankfully, that was something her dad didn’t care about. He never asked about the friends she’d made, only checked that she was staying out of trouble and doing her homework “I can bring back Olivia if you think you need her.” 

“I haven’t even had a test yet, it’ll be fine.” Jade didn’t want to see her old tutor or deal with stupid sticker rewards. She just wanted to keep her grades good enough that her dad wouldn’t mind if she auditioned for the school’s musical.

By the third week, though, her dad was growing impatient. There still weren’t any assignments or tests, so instead of asking about that, he started asking her how she planned on proving she belonged there. 

“Well, I get all the homework right, and I’m sure the tests will be good,” she explained, “so, like you said, I’ll keep getting good grades and then-” 

“You can’t just be the delinquent who passes tests,” he interrupted, “you need to do more.” 

“Like what?” 

“Doesn’t matter. Anything.”

“But-”

“-figure it out.” 

He told her she needed to be an asset, but didn’t tell her what that meant. Jade had no idea how to make him happy when he kept his instructions vague, and as unhelpful as his conversation was, it gave her something to think about. 

Since school had started, he’d been more attentive. Not necessarily in a positive way, In fact, a lot of their conversations were belittling and unhelpful. Still, it was better than the weeks of silence that stretched on through the summer or the times when he left her completely alone. He spoke to her every day. Granted, it was sometimes just to check her homework or remind her that her single goal should be “excellence”, but it was still attention, and she wanted to hold on to it before it slipped away again. 

If she did all the right things; maybe she could change his criticism into praise. 

***

Westbay had the biggest middle school auditorium in the greater SoCal area. 

That’s what Mrs Jones had said, and she even sounded proud when she said it; leading Jade and her dad out onto that stage with a self-assured smile and her over-rehearsed speech. It had been so long since Jade had thought about acting that she actually let herself get swept up in the moment.

The musty curtains, the scuffed-up stage floor, the lights hanging overhead collecting dust. It was all so beautiful. 

And she really thought she’d get to be a part of it. 

Stupid. 

Whether or not Westbay took pride in their arts programs didn’t matter. Her dad wouldn’t care, so it was a waste of her time. 

If she wanted his praise, she would need to pick something else. 

On the last Friday before October, there was an announcement reminding them all that extracurriculars started up, and that sign up sheets would be available on Monday, the first of the month. Over dinner, Jade tried to catch her dad’s attention so she could whittle down her list of extracurriculars. Her attempts were all in vain, he kept blowing her off“Jade, I’ve had a very long day,” he said, “you don’t have to join anything.”

But he wanted her to be an asset, and she needed to know what that meant, “yeah, but. If I did join something…” she started, trailing off intentionally to leave room for him to answer. 

“Wow, you’re not going to drop this, huh?” he sighed, “I don’t know, what did you do at your old school?” 

Nothing. She did nothing. He’d told her to do nothing, so she did nothing, “just study.”

He nodded vaguely, and she was sure he hadn’t heard what she said. “Then do that.” 

“You told me I needed to do more,” she reminded him. 

“Okay, but it’s not my job to make every little decision for you. Can’t you do that much?” 

“I was just-” but her defence was cut short as her dad kept talking. 

“-what answer gets me out of this conversation anyway?’ he laughed, “If I tell you to join the soccer team, can I finish my dinner in peace?” 

The last time Jade played soccer was in gym class back in February. She failed to kick the ball every single time she tried. “Soccer?” 

“Whatever. Sports always look good to colleges,” he shrugged, “Just not basketball. People will think you’re a dyke.” He didn’t say anything else.

Jade tried to break the silence during their nightly television ritual. “So, you think I should join the Soccer team instead of the student council? Or?” Maybe he didn’t know yet that student council was an option, and he’d rather she do that. Or he tossed soccer out because it was the first suggestion to come to his mind but his actual favourite sport was field hockey. 

He flipped over the page in his book and turned up the volume. 

Annoyed, but not swayed from her goal, Jade kept going. “See, there’s so much to do, and I think if I joined the soccer team, I’d probably just, like, fall or something.” The sugar in her coffee had already dissolved, but Jade stirred it again with the spoon still in her mug, waiting for his response. “Hey, what’s your favourite sport?” It was an abrupt question, but she wanted an answer from him.

He hadn’t told her how, but there had to be a way to make him pay attention. Make him interested and proud...maybe even happy. The more specific his instructions, the greater chance she had of doing all the things that could finally win him over. If she joined the right club or played the right sport, got the best grades. Then he’d have to concede that she was worth his time. 

But he wasn’t in the mood to give her any clues. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to her at all, “Shouldn’t you be working on homework?” 

“I finished it after school so we could watch t.v,” she explained. There was never more homework than she could manage, and after almost a month at school, she’d figured out how to get it all done before dinner. Jade could feel him losing interest in her as more time passed without concrete proof that she was doing well in school. She wasn’t about to jeopardize the only two hours she knew she could spend with him. Quiet or not, it was all they had, and if she started doing homework during this time, then whole days would pass without being in the same room as him. 

“Don’t you have a t.v in your room?”

She didn’t. He was the one who’d set up her room when she first started seeing him again, “No?”

“Hmm,” he grumbled, and Jade stopped trying to get an answer from him while the silence settled around them. 

It used to be her favourite thing about him. She thought it was a sign that he understood her on a level that her mother just didn’t. Lately, it was starting to feel cold. Isolating. And Jade knew he wasn’t quiet because he understood her: he was quiet because he didn’t care.

But she could make him care. It all depended on what she did next. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I look forward to hearing your thoughts!
> 
> Take care!  
> -Trashdove


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now's a good time to remind people that:  
> 1) Clifford West is terrible.  
> 2) I just switched the rating to M (more for later chapters, but could apply here depending.  
> If nothing I've written yet has been particularly triggering, nothing here should be, but I'm putting a specific trigger warning in the bottom if you know yourself well enough.

So...she hadn’t really asked permission. 

Sure, _“yeah, do whatever you want”_ sounded like a free pass, but she didn’t fully explain what she was planning, and that wasn’t his fault. All the same, she would have hoped that her continued success meant something. Anything. Even just enough to change how he reacted.

Ideally, he would have just ignored it. Jade was long past hoping for compliments. If her beyond perfect test score didn’t earn his praise, nothing would.

Yes. Actually.

Since October, Jade brought home straight-A’s, but her dad never failed to find something to complain about. Her stories were “too weird”; her ideas for the science fair were “unconventional, at best” (she wanted to mummify a fish); and even in math, he loved to tell her when she “got question 5 wrong.” She thought it was just high standards. And there was nothing wrong with that, it just meant she needed to push herself harder. So she did.

In early December she managed a perfect score on a math test. It was an easy unit, and she’d spent so much of her time reading ahead and memorizing, that she was bound to get another A. But the bonus questions put her over the top because she’d memorized the first hundred digits of Pi. It was something that started because she liked the symbol, but she couldn’t stop herself from going further. Knowing more than her classmates. She weaved the numbers throughout her notebook, between sketches and poems that gradually got darker. The bonus question “for five extra points: what are the first 10 digits of Pi?” She got a final mark of 45/40.

Beyond perfect.

“Good job,” but he was dismissive and uninterested as he handed it back to her.

“Anything else?”

“I don’t like it when teachers give bonus marks.”

“But then, it’s still 100%...”

“I said ‘good job’, didn’t I?”

At the time, it felt like a slap in the face, but she’d kill for a “good job” right about now. Sitting in the chair completely humiliated as her stylist asked what she didn’t like about last time. “You know, hunny, you could have told me! I’d have been happy to fix it then,” he ran his fingers through her uneven cut, “hmmm, glad you only did the one part though. Makes it easier to clean up,” he muttered to himself.

It was supposed to be a reward for her report card. Halfway through the second term, just before March break. They got their quadmester marks, and Jade had yet to receive a worse grade than an A.

It was taxing; staying up to read ahead and check and check and check her assignments for any glaring errors, but it paid off. A little. In the way that when she showed her dad, he looked at it passively and when she asked if she could get her hair done, he gave her $300 and said: “Yeah, do whatever you want.” Taking him at face-value was always risky.

If she had read into it, then she would have understood that he meant “do whatever you want, just nothing that would compromise my ability to brag about you at the country club.” 

It was nice though when he did brag about her though. In December, he toted her along to his office party and spent the whole night introducing her to colleagues as his “future lawyer,” or “brilliant student” or “star player.” Technically, they hadn’t had a game yet, but Jade nodded along and made a mental note to practice harder. Back in October, after trying out for every other sport, Jade made the volleyball team. Barely. By Christmas break, even after two months of practice, she was still the worst player on the team. The season didn’t start until February, but even still, Jade could feel her teammates’ frustrations every time she missed the ball. But the pride in her dad’s voice as he exaggerated her accomplishments drove her to do whatever it took to make his hyperbole reality.

In the new term, she started staying late after practice. Trying to get the stupid ball across the stupid net, at least once so she could feel even semi-accomplished, but it kept hitting the mesh and falling. Several times, she’d toss the ball away from herself, slamming into the wall with all her pent-up rage and exasperation. Hoping it might relieve some of the tension in her body but it never did. It just made it harder to pretend she wasn’t one wrong move away from losing control. The image he bragged about was one she spent hours maintaining, but it was delicate. One crack, no matter how small, threatened to unleash the turmoil of twisted anger, pain, and confusion that swirled around in her brain whenever she stopped long enough to let herself think. She’d stay in the gym until she could guarantee 5 shots in a row.

Some nights this was fairly quick and she’d be back before her dad who was staying out later and later. It wasn’t uncommon for him to stay late at work or go on dates without telling her, and Jade was over the initial shock of his inconsistency. She was convinced that, eventually, she’d be good enough to be his first choice.

It wasn’t a sucker’s dream, either. Whenever they spent time together around other people, he’d start openly praising her, “M’kay, lemme tell you something,” he told Smith one weekend at the country club, “Jade’s not worried about any tests,” this particular brag came after a seemingly innocuous question about whether Jade felt prepared for the science fair, “She’s a fucking straight-A student. Okay? She’s not retarded.” His compliments got louder and more aggressive depending on how many drinks he’d had. She wasn’t entirely sure when it started, but around November she noticed he’d stopped taking just club soda at meals. It was only when they were out, and it usually stopped before he was too drunk to drive. And, it was the only time he complimented her, so she didn’t mention it.

Most of the time though, he was completely detached. Impossible to read and volatile if she misinterpreted him. One night, when the extra practice took hours and she only stopped once her arms were stinging, he stopped her in the kitchen, “I expected you home sooner.”

Attentive? Concerned? “I just stayed late to do extra practice.”

“Until 8?”

Curious? Angry? “Well, I was done at 7,” she cautioned, “but it takes a while to bus.”

“Oh, okay,” angry? Angry, “so now it’s my fault for not picking you up?”

“N-no, I just-”

“You know, you didn’t ask me before you went off and joined something that keeps you after school three nights a week. I’m not a fucking chauffer, Jade.”

“I didn’t say-”

“Doesn’t matter. Just go finish your homework or something.”

Best to listen to him, “Right, I’ll do that then.”

“You can cut the attitude, you’re not that hard done by.”

If Jade were better at reading him, their conversations wouldn’t be so unpredictable. She’d know what to say, how to say it, and she’d be able to get the right response from him. She just wasn’t there yet.

If she was, she wouldn’t be back at the hairdresser with a chunk of hair cut out of the side. Jade should have known that getting her hair styled the way she had was a mistake, and she could have avoided this whole experience altogether if she’d just thought about it more carefully.

She just wanted blue hair. Every time she passed a mirror, Jade felt disconnected from the person looking back at her. The tired eyes with bags that had been hanging on her lower lids since November, wrinkled a little from countless nights with too little sleep. Her own decision. In order to get a full night’s rest, Jade would have to sacrifice her allotted time for art.

Which was out of the question.

No matter how busy her days were, Jade always made sure she had some time to sit down and be free. Some nights, it was only 20 minutes as she fought to stay awake long enough to finish a sketch, but usually, it was at least an hour. Often much longer. Jade commonly spent whole nights wide awake, skipping meals and putting on coffee so she could create a space for herself in the pages. There were a million twisted thoughts and feelings she had no way to express except within the confines of her notebooks. It was the only proof she had that she was still herself.

The blue hair wasn’t even her idea. Well, not wholly, anyway. Cass mentioned it in passing after practice. At one of the team’s many (way too many) sleepovers, Brooke brought a bag full of coloured extensions and the team spent about an hour weaving them into each other’s hair. It was one of the only sleepovers Jade enjoyed. “Ohmigod, Jade! It looks so pretty!” Cass had given her pink extensions, which she didn’t like, but the pop of colour felt bold and familiar.

***

“So, you just want to even out the cut?” Rafi, her stylist asked, “or are we playing again today?”

“Take out the highlights,” she twirled a section of blue around her index finger, “or whatever.”

“Aweh,” he quirked his lips into an over-produced frown, “I thought we liked the highlights?”

“It just wasn’t working.”

His eyes met hers in the mirror, and he tilted his head semi-knowingly. He ran his hand over her hair, smoothing down the flyaways from the uneven cut, “I’m sorry, hunny,” he brought her hair around to rest in front of her shoulders, measuring the length, “I’ll make it pretty, though.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be perfect!” 

“’ Kay.”

Jade thought she’d done enough to be perfect. She’d tied for the highest academic scores in the school. The only other student with similar grades was an eighth-grade boy who Jade never spoke to. She’d also managed, through sheer determination and sweat (ew), to become one of the strongest members of her team. Her late nights after practice were not in vain, and when the team started competing, she constantly pushed herself to be better at each game.

All for his drunken praise that she was absolutely hellbent on earning. 

He wanted perfect grades; she could do that! A star athlete, Sure. He wanted her to sit quietly while he tore her apart for every mistake, why not? She was able to do all of that as long as it meant he wouldn’t give up on her.

If Ellen could see her now.

Jade never intentionally thought about her mother, but it was bound to happen on occasion. Usually when she was exhausted and alone, wondering why her latest success wasn’t good enough for her dad. It would have been enough for Ellen. All of it. It was laughable really, how little her mother wanted from her. Borderline offensive. She was smarter, more determined than anyone had ever given her credit for, and Ellen was stupid for accepting anything less than her best. There would be days when Jade thought about calling her. Just to rub in her success and gloat about how well she was doing with her dad. But she was sure Ellen wouldn’t care.

The phone calls were sporadic now, sometimes months apart. Jade hadn’t heard from her mother since January. She asked her dad about it earlier in the month. He said she “probably just gave up” or realized that calling “wasn’t worth the effort”.

So that settled that.

But she wished it was Ellen smoothing over her hair right now instead of the stylist. Settling her racing mind and making just enough room for her rage that she was able to think more clearly. Jade constantly ached from the loss of a parent that could do that for her. Let her be mad, let her fail, let her make a million mistakes and still love her. But Jade’s million and first mistake was too much for Ellen who couldn’t possibly still want her after what she said.

She was lucky to still have her dad. Lucky that he took her in, paid her tuition, bought her nice things. At least, that’s what he told her whenever she sighed at the wrong time or looked too tired. “Get over yourself.” It was stupid to want anything more than she had; everything was fine. Precarious. But fine. The slightest wrong move could invite a wave of criticism if she caught him on a day when he was stressed. Despite her best efforts to be worth his adoration, he still passed her up for an extra hour at the office or a night out with “just some cocktease from HR”. 

But there was a good explanation. There had to be. Jade looked for reason in each of his random explosions, trying to find a pattern in his inconsistency that; once she figured out, would explain everything. It was all going to make sense eventually.

She just hadn’t figured it out yet.

Even still, she should have known that putting blue highlights in her hair was a mistake.

***

Three months ago Jade had her first appointment with Rafi. They smiled together as she showed him pictures of highlights and tween models with side bangs, and “oh, hunny we are going to have so much fun today!” 

It was the first time she’d been able to recognize herself in months. She kept playing with it, walking past mirrors to see if she could catch herself off guard. It was vibrant, shiny, rebellious. It was cool. She had cool hair.

Cass was the only member on the team that Jade could stand in any capacity. They weren’t friends- at least, Jade didn’t think so- but they did hang out together during March break while her dad took a solo trip to Las Vegas. “The blue looks so good!”

“Yeah, I know,” and she couldn’t stop playing with it. It was the only part of her that felt right, and she loved maintaining it; trimming the ends if she noticed a split, not even enough for anyone but her to notice.

Her dad was less impressed, “Jesus Christ, Jade,” he muttered, turning back to his computer.

“What?”

“I thought you were finally going blonde or some shit. I didn’t think you’d…” he stumbled looking for the exact words to describe what she’d done.

Defensive and annoyed, Jade took the risk to stand up for herself. Albeit gently, “you said I could get whatever I wanted,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, but…” he looked at her intently, “You’re not serious about this,” it wasn’t a question.

But she answered anyway. Exhausted from everything she did for him, Jade pushed her shoulders back, shaking her head enough that her new cool hair cascaded to the side. “Yeah, I am.” She challenged him.

He just shook his head, “no, you’re changing it,” not a trace of doubt in his voice.

She didn’t get mad at him for leaving her alone all weekend to go to Vegas. Or when he missed her first volleyball game, and each subsequent match. She didn’t ask for much from him, and she’d more than put in the work to be this perfect person for him.

And he wouldn’t even let her colour her hair. “I am not changing it.”

“Well, you look like a call girl. ”

She still had a strand of hair in her hands, and she started fiddling with it defensively. It was unique, bold, unexpected. It was the only thing that made her feel even remotely familiar, and she didn’t care if he liked it. But could he at least pretend?

Trying to regain her brief lapse in composure, she clenched her jaw. Teeth grinding enough to be audible.

“Uh-oh, did I make you mad?” he teased, “careful now, temper’s an ugly thing on a girl.” Jade’s cheeks seared at his words and she pressed her nails into the back of her palms. “But you’d know all about that, I mean,” he laughed, “you lived with Ellen longer than I did.” 

They had a few more fights about it. Sometimes when he was sober, sometimes when he was drunk. He told her “boys don’t like that” and “I can’t take you seriously when you look like that,” but Jade ignored his comments. She just wanted to know why everything she’d done wasn’t enough to grant her this one spark of self-expression.

Blue hair. Not quitting the volleyball team. Which she would love to do but then he wouldn’t be able to claim she was a star athlete. Semi-permanent highlights. Not slacking off at school, which she could do and still bring home straight A’s. But then he couldn’t fawn over her superiority in public.

She loved the highlights. They were staying.

It didn’t matter if he liked it or not. It wasn’t  _ for _ him. It was the only thing about herself that was just for her. Everything else she did for him and Jade thought that should be enough. 

It wasn’t, and she was getting tired. 

Nothing she did was good enough for him, and she couldn’t keep up the act forever. She’d only barely managed to make it this far, but she kept trying because she couldn’t get rejected again. It might kill her. Jade knew that her perfect grades and hard-won athleticism were the only strings connecting her to her dad, and she held onto them desperately. No matter how tired she was. 

And she was.

She was tired of spending entire nights reading ahead just to please him, all for him to tell her it still wasn’t enough. Tired of coming home with bruises from volleyball practice, just for him to miss every one of her games. Tired of bringing him top grades only to walk away feeling like she’d failed somehow. 

Gradually, she started to ignore her homework. Studying didn’t make him happy, and it didn’t make her happy either. Instead of reading ahead, Jade stayed up to watch movies on T.V he couldn’t wait to install in her bedroom. She spent school nights and weekends alike curled up with Dexter, playing with her blue hair and completely neglecting her schoolwork.

Her mind frequently drifted back to Ellen. Maybe she’d been wrong to choose her dad, and if she had done everything differently, she could still be with her mom.

And maybe Santa was real and life didn’t suck. 

The reality was that she lived with her dad now, and there was no going back. 

At the end of March, Jade noticed the bottle of Bailey’s tucked away in the fridge. His late nights were more frequent, and when he came home Jade could hear him stumbling in the hallway. He got louder and more creative with his criticisms, and he ran through them on loop as long as they were in the same room. 

In April, he started shoving her if she was in the way. Never hard, never forcefully, and she wouldn’t have minded at all if it weren’t for the fact that it seemed like punishment. For what? Blue hair? Her grades were still good, the volleyball season was done now, but she’d made MVP. Not that he was there when she won, but the medal had been hanging on the key rack for weeks, and he never said anything. 

It turned out, school wasn’t hard and now that she’d figured out how to learn, she could get top grades without reading ahead.

But despite it all, he treated her like an invisible pest. 

If perfection hadn’t gained his praise, maybe a louder rebellion would at least get his attention. He never lost interest in bringing up the one thing she did wrong.

In May, she skipped no fewer than 10 classes, and her grades dropped significantly. Not so much that she was at risk of failing seventh grade, but enough that teachers started asking if she was alright. She’d show up to tests having missed the whole unit and barely bothered to scribble out appropriate answers. If perfect grades didn’t matter, she shouldn’t bother trying to get them. She might as well have fun. 

She never failed, but she performed poorly enough that her A+ streak was compromised, and she started bringing home B’s and C’s. 

Curious to see how little everything mattered, Jade started leaving her tests face-up on the kitchen table. A pile of four C+’s sat for three days before he even noticed. 

“Jade what the fuck is this?” and there was a new heat to his voice. Different from his usual cold delivery, and if she were still trying to please him maybe she would have tried to back down. 

Instead, she shrugged noncommittally, “just some tests.” 

“I thought you were doing better,” he said, “Jesus,” he looked through the tests, “did you even  _ try? _ ” 

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” she repeated. Then, content on having the last word, she folded her arms and walked away. 

“You stay put,” he slammed the tests back onto the table with enough force that the sound lingered for a moment, “you think this is a fucking game?” Jade had never heard him sound like that before. He was yelling, but not the way Ellen did. There was a command in each breath that came from him, a forcefulness behind his voice that kept her frozen in place as she turned to look at him. “Your grades matter.”

“Whatever.”

“How many goddamn times, Jade?” He shouted, “Cut the attitude,” he jabbed a finger in her direction, one hand still on the tests. He swallowed a lump in his throat and took a steady inhale, “I expect more from you, going forward,” his voice had settled now into its usual dismissiveness, “I hope you know that I’m very disappointed by these.”

With his voice levelled out again, Jade returned to her initial approach. He’d been impossible to please, and aside from the yelling, he hadn’t done anything he didn’t also do for an A. 

There was no explanation. No reason for his outbursts. They were random, unpredictable, and completely mismatched to any situation. He was  _ disappointed _ in her C+? “You’re disappointed by everything,” she dismissed, now finished with the argument.

But as she turned to leave again, his hand snared around her wrist and he yanked her back, shoving her into the table. He slid the pile of tests closer and slammed his hand down on them again, “you are going to tell me exactly what happened.” he demanded, face inches from hers and she could smell alcohol lingering from his breath. “‘re you stupid?”

It happened so fast, Jade was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she wasn’t in her room like she’d planned. This was a position she hadn’t anticipated, and she could feel her shoulders quivering. “N-”

“Lemme finish,” he growled, “you think you’re hot shit, don’t you? Rules don’t apply so you get to do whatever the fuck you want? Is that it? Dye your hair, blow off school?” 

She shook her head, eyes wide and terrified to say the wrong thing. 

He narrowed his glare, then let out a single chuckle, “oh calm down, I’m not gonna fucking hit you.”

Jade released a shaky exhale, but didn’t say anything else. 

“So goddamn emotional, Jesus Christ,” he mumbled.

There was a ring of bruises around her wrist the next day. She kept her blazer on the whole day, even though it was 84 degrees. 

Even though the season was over, the Volleyball team still interacted with her as if they were friends. It wasn’t all bad. Jade liked that she had a place to sit at lunch, and people that noticed if she was at school or not, but it was annoying when they all asked if she was doing okay. “You look sad!” or “Are you sick or something?”. Cassidy in particular was very concerned, and when the two were alone, she asked: “he didn’t leave you alone again, did he?” 

No. 

After that, even though she got regular invites to join, she stopped eating lunch with the team. 

She stopped going to class. 

She stopped studying. 

It just wasn’t worth it anymore. Rather than inspiring her to push harder, the altercation over her C+’s made Jade want to give up altogether. It wasn’t as bad as she’d expected: he hadn’t kicked her out. But it was intimidating enough to make her reconsider her approach. If she was going to piss him off, she might as well go all the way. Still not failing classes, because she never wanted to feel as stupid as she did when she almost failed third grade, but barely doing the required work to pass. Turning in half-complete assignments because she’d spent her time doodling or watching movies at the theatre on Santa Monica boulevard. Showing up with dress code violations because she wanted to wear the new shoes she’d swiped from an outdoor display. 

He was going to get mad no matter what she did, so she did whatever the fuck she wanted. 

***

“So, why’d you change your mind, hunny?” Rafi asked, the dye now soaking in to cover up the highlights, “I thought we liked the blue?” 

The blue wasn’t the problem. It was the absolute hack job on the left side of her head. A fist full of hair, cut so hurriedly that parts were longer than others, but it all just stood out as horrible. As if she’d gotten gum caught in it, and now it was hanging just below her earlobes while the rest of her hair fell past her shoulders. 

At the end of May, Jade noticed her dad was home a lot more than he used to be. He slept in, and she could hear him still asleep while she left for school. It wasn’t until June that he told her he’d lost his job. He didn’t get into details when she asked him why. Just muttered something about how “nobody knows how to take a joke anymore.”

He then moved on to tell her that, unless she secured one of the school’s scholarships, she would be in public school next year. Without a job, he couldn’t afford the tuition, “‘member that little talk we had about grades? Now’s a good time not to be fucking worthless.” 

That instilled a good amount of fear in her. She’d dug herself a pretty deep hole; skipping classes and barely passing, but she was sure she could fix it with the final three weeks of school. She even mentioned it when her guidance counsellor asked about her plans for eighth grade (a touch-base appointment that all the students had at the end of seventh grade).

“We can look into it, definitely,” she nodded, but her brows were stitched together, “ we’ve loved having you at this school, I also want to find out how you can stay,” Jade sat straight as she waited for the rest, “but I should tell you that our scholarships are only available to kids whose parents annual income is below a certain amount. Grades aside, I don’t think you qualify.” 

She tried to explain that to her dad. But, “bullshit, you’re just looking for excuses.” 

“No, really. They told me it’s for low-income kids.” 

“I don’t have a job, Jade!” he yelled, “that counts!” 

Her cheeks burned from frustration, “No it doesn’t!”

“I told you you needed to try harder. Did you?” he kept pushing the issue.

But it wouldn’t make a difference. Nothing made a difference. 

Nothing she did seemed to matter. If she got A’s or C’s, he would still tear them apart. If she spent her days at school or the mall, he still shoved by her like she was invisible. If she had perfect ponytails or blue streaks, he still made comments about her hair. And if she pulled it all together to impress Westbay, he still wasn’t in the income bracket for scholarships. 

Fuck, nothing mattered. 

She finished seventh grade two weeks ago. Her lack of effort in the last month of school meant that her A+ report card from March was, by the end of term, mostly B-’s. 

He tore it apart. Every comment left by her teachers, the decline in her grades, the notes left about her absences, “since when is it okay to skip school, Jade? Duuuuuh.” When he was finally done yelling about it, he shook his head, “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “I can’t-, Jade I can’t pay your tuition next year,” he explained, “which is why you were supposed to do better?” 

“So I’ll go to public school,” she shrugged. His tantrums were frequent, always loud, and she suspected that he was drunk more often than not, so she hardly put any stock in what he said. “It’s fine. I can do better next year.”

“Oh, you will do better next year,” he threatened, “and this?” he picked up the report card and waved it in front of her face, “is  _ far _ from fine. What the hell happened to you?”

***

Jade didn’t like her hair without the blue in it, and it was way too short. 

“Don’t worry, hunny,” Rafi saw her as she ran her fingers through it, frowning when the sensation was cut short by her new bob, “It’ll grow back,” he shot her a warm, reassuring smile.

Four days ago, he came home around midnight. Jade was still awake, having had a pot of coffee all to herself so she could stay up and watch movies on the big T.V in the living room. She figured it would be one of the nights that he didn’t come home, so she jumped a little when he slammed the door and stumbled in. 

“You’re still up?”

“Yup.” 

“You shouldn’t be.” 

“Oh, okay,” she rolled her eyes and brought her attention back to the T.V. 

“Jade, go to bed.” 

It didn’t matter what she said, what she did. He was looking for a fight. Otherwise, he would have just ignored her. She didn’t respond, just kept watching the movie. 

“I said,” he repeated, “go to bed.” 

“Don’t think I will,” she responded. So he’d yell at her a bit, so what? It wasn’t fun, but it was unavoidable and she was starting to get used to it. He’d probably get a few sentences out before he got sick and went to bed. Then she’d have the T.V to herself for the rest of the night. 

“I don’t know why you think you can disrespect me like that,” he let out a few hiccups, and Jade stifled a small giggle. He was too drunk to fight, this would be over very soon. “Are you laughing?” he demanded. 

“No,” but she said it with a wide smile and didn’t even try to sound convincing.

He was close enough that he could reach out and tear the remote from her hands, shutting off the television as soon as he had it, “you little bitch, you are,” he moved around the couch so he was standing in front of her, “Think it’s funny? Gonna-” another hiccup, “laugh at your piece of shit dad?” 

As he stood there, not even a foot away, Jade realized she’d misread the situation. He was drunk, but not so much that he was about to pass out. She needed to back down before it escalated, “I-”

“Holy shit, you never let me finish!” he cut her off. She’d already taken things too far, and she only had herself to blame as he reached a hand out and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her up from the couch so he could bring her face closer. Jade winced at the strands pulling against her scalp and tried to move with his hand to limit the amount of tension as he kept his fist secured around her hair. “Were you fucking laughing?” 

Heart racing and eyes stinging, Jade shook her head, “n-no,” she whimpered. 

“Don’t lie to me,” he insisted, tugging at her hair again, “you were laughing, weren’t you?”

Scared, and completely unsure of the right answer, Jade nodded in hopes he might let go. Instead, he dragged her away from the couch. At first, she tried to move away, but he tightened his hold in her hair and she let out a small groan of pain, so she followed him instead. 

He brought her into the kitchen, shoved her against the counter and brought his elbow to her chest, holding her there while he took his hand away from her hair, “is it still funny?” 

Jade shook her head, eyes still wide. She was no longer worried about the movie she’d been watching or whether or not trying to please him made sense. She just wanted to do and say whatever she needed to get him to let her go. 

Technically, his elbow wasn’t secure against her chest, and she could have manoeuvred out of it, but she didn’t know if that was the right move. What if it made him angrier? What if he twisted her wrist again, or threw her into the wall as he did sometimes if she didn’t get out of the way fast enough. 

“You know, I’m not even being a dick, Jade,” he mumbled as he rifled through one of the drawers, “ _ you’re  _ out of control.”

She shut her eyes so she could stop looking at him, and tried to think of anything to settle herself at the moment. He’d grabbed her hair again, shouting about how she needed to learn respect. That rules weren’t meant to be broken and she couldn’t do whatever she wanted without asking him.

It was going to be over soon. He was going to pass out eventually. It wasn’t even the worst interaction they’d had. 1. 2. 3. It was this dumb exercise Coach Taylor made them do before every game. It worked pretty well though. 4. 5.

She heard it before she felt it. It was one of her favourite sounds in the world, and it took her a second before she realized what happened. The metallic snip of twin blades opening before the scissors closed around the chunk of hair in her dad’s hand. 

Jade opened her eyes in time to see his fist leaving her head, but she wasn’t pulled along with him. He had his hand closed around a chunk of hair, and she cautiously brought her hand up to feel the section he’d removed. The tears that had been gathering since he pulled her from the couch silently rolled down her cheeks as she stood there, shaking in disbelief. 

“Stop fucking crying, it’s just hair.”

***

Her dad was up before her for the first time in months. 

“Good, you’re awake,” he wasn’t in his office, he was at the kitchen table, waiting for her. 

Jade spent the whole night throwing up. She was still trying to process what happened, and if it weren’t for the mirror in the bathroom, she wouldn’t have believed it. 

“I made breakfast,” he said, but it wasn’t necessary. The air still smelled like bacon and if that didn’t give it away, the table was already set with two plates piled with scrambled eggs and toast. “Last night got pretty out of control.”

Cautiously, Jade pulled out a chair and joined him. She looked at the plate of breakfast, but her stomach was still upset. 

“I know you liked the guy last time, and, uhm, I made you an appointment,” he explained, “to fix...well,” he gestured vaguely at her hair. 

Jade stared at her breakfast and nodded.

“Oh, come on, you’re not still mad,” he said like it was a fact, not a question, “Eat something, you’ll feel better.” 

“I’m not hungry.” 

“Just eat, Jade,” he insisted.

Too tired and scared to argue, Jade finished her plate. The night before still burned in her mind, and she wasn’t allowed to forget it yet because of the jagged chunk of hair missing from her head. She passed herself in the mirror at about ten, the fresh memory made her stomach churn and she spent the rest of the morning throwing up. 

Her dad was quiet. He bought her favourite dinner, and even went out of his way to invite her to watch T.V. Jade wasn’t used to this level of interest from him, and part of her wanted to take advantage of it before it went away again. 

The other part of her wanted nothing to do with him. 

He stayed that way for the three days she waited before Rafi could see her, and even drove her to the appointment. “And, since you need to get your hair done anyway,” he said, “you can get rid of the highlights.” 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **physical abuse forced haircutting  
> ___  
> What's this? An e x t r e m e l y late update? I'm really sorry about that, I try to get them written up fast, and I already have so much done. Sometimes when I go to rewrite, it only takes a few days, and sometimes (like now) it takes a long time. One of the reasons this one is late is that I decided to completely refocus the chapter, so it took me a while to figure out what got to stay and what had to go. I'm pretty happy with the result and hope to hear from you about it.  
> As always, Thank You,  
> -Trashdove


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about how late this is. Life in general has been pretty rough, and while I always enjoy working on this; sometimes it's really hard to make words happen. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and I have an extra treat in the endnotes.

They didn’t talk about it. 

Not when he picked her up from the appointment, not for the entire car ride home, and not for the next seven days.

In fact, they didn’t even see each other. He migrated between his room and his office intent on avoiding the kitchen during the day, but he had nothing to worry about. Jade only left her room in the morning to put on coffee and grab something that wouldn’t turn gross if she waited all day to eat it. Usually a bag of popcorn that she wouldn’t open until she was sure the churning in her stomach was hunger and not nausea. 

He seemed perfectly content to leave her in her room, stewing in a mixture of shock and repulsion every time she absentmindedly ran her fingers through her hair. It was something she loved doing a week ago when it was still long and had blue strands. She used to do it as a way of showing off to her teammates at lunch, or to concentrate when she got stuck on a question in the middle of a test. She used to do it when she sat around on her bed, watching movies and trying to avoid her dad when he was in one of his stupors. 

It used to remind her of a time when she wasn’t as despicable as she was now. When her mom would come and try to sooth all her problems away with the simple motion of smoothing down the top of her head. And, no, it never worked, but it always made her feel loved. 

Now that her hair was plain, just brown, and short, the sensation of fingers in her hair just reminded her of being dragged around by it. How he used it to bring her face right up to his so he could scream in it. 

That she was disrespectful and immature. That she needed to learn a lesson. 

Jade never meant to make him that angry. She didn’t even know she could. When he shoved her it was always passive and cold like she might as well not exist for all notice he took of her. But it was never angry. 

Even when he was upset with her- and his face tweaked ever so slightly with frustration or annoyance, and he unleashed a litany of curses and insults- it was always fairly easy to accept. Usually, those outbursts were limited to when she did something wrong. Like in May when she left the burner on the coffee maker so long it turned bitter and he called her a “fucking waste of space”. That was fine. 

And until a week ago, she would have sworn that’s as angry as he could get, but apparently not. His outburst on Tuesday and the resulting fallout of quiet tension changed everything she thought she knew about him. It changed her own expectation of her behaviour, and she was no longer quite sure how to act around him. 

If someone asked when she still had blue hair, Jade would have said anger didn’t scare her. After all, why should it? It was her favourite emotion: powerful, energetic, and permanent in a way that happiness just wasn’t. But she saw what that kind of unbridled rage looked like on her dad, how the veins popped out on his face, and he held his whole body stiff and square. The deafening power of his yelling to the point where she could hardly hear the content of the words, but she could still smell his scotch-soaked breath as it lingered in the air while he kept it up. 

She wondered if she ever looked like that. Maybe that’s what Ellen saw when her face twisted in terror when they fought for the last time. Maybe that's what she meant when she said Jade was “just like him.” The phrase echoed around in her head while she tried to play music loud enough to erase it. 

It’s not that she’d ever forgotten about the fight. Of course, she didn’t. But usually what she remembered was the way her mother looked at her, or how she broke down in tears at the admission that Jade was so hard to love. The specifics and words were over a year old at this point, and most of her recollections were fuzzy or incomplete. In fact, she  _ had  _ forgotten about being compared to her dad. It sort of evaporated into the mess of stimulus from the fight, and when she left home she’d been too distracted to recall all the details. 

Especially since there were newer details to focus on. Like how his footsteps echoed around empty halls in the evening, warning her to stay in her room. Or how his bedroom door creaked just loud enough to let her know to wait before using the restroom, lest she run into him by accident. 

It took her a whole day to realize she was terrified. The bruises along her lower back from where he’d shoved her into the counter were starting to fade, but each sound he made sent a shiver up her spine and she shook hard enough that the already damaged skin would tense up beneath the surface. Even once the bruises were pale enough to almost blend in, she still found it painful to stand up straight from the amount of pressure in her back. 

But it wasn’t all fear. There was desperation, a need to somehow make it up to him so she could have another shot at being loved. A pang of disappointment at the realization that she’d provoked him to that point, and there was no guarantee he’d ever forgive her for it. A sense of rejection, because he’d looked at her single form of self expression and decided it was flawed enough to be constantly mocked and eventually removed.

A tinge of betrayal, to be stripped of any control she had over her expression, after performing for him all year like the perfect show dog. A sense of resentment, for all the work she’d done for him. Bitterness, that he expected perfection from her while he told jokes that got him fired and drank himself into comas. 

And it wouldn’t stop. As soon as she thought she’d settled on a particular mood it was replaced almost immediately with another one. 

There weren’t any distractions good enough either. If she tried to draw, she’d get frustrated at the slow progress of her pen on paper. Then she’d resort to tearing pages out of her notebook, just to cut them up and leave the pieces on the floor. Sounds were too loud, and she found that no matter how low the volume was on her PearPod, it always echoed in her ears until she inevitably tore her earbuds out and threw the device across the room. 

Even movies didn’t hold the same magic that they used to. Plot lines were hard to follow and she was disconnected from the actors in a way that she wasn’t used to. Usually, she was able to at least pull humor from the overdone expressions, but as she worked her way through over a dozen different movies, she found she couldn’t connect. 

Which made her frustrated, because she was supposed to like movies. Which left her feeling hollow at the loss of something she used to enjoy. Which made her angry at her father for having enough power to take away the good things in her life. Which made her afraid, because she had no way to stand up to him...

Which made her frustrated…

...which...

***

A week. 

That’s how long Jade stayed in her room cycling between emotions rapid-fire until she thought was losing her mind. 

Most often, it boiled down to anger. Of course it did. That alone wasn’t a bad thing, except for the fact that she had nowhere to direct it. She only had so much paper to cut up, only so many jeans to put trendy holes in, only so many objects to throw against the wall hard enough to leave indents. 

The destruction was hardly satisfying, because it never released any of the tension in her body. It only served as a visual reminder of the constant chaos racking through her brain. Thoughts she lost track of before they finished forming, feelings she couldn’t control or do anything about; and the carnage in her bedroom made it clear. 

She was a mess. Over hair _ ,  _ how pathetic.  _ “Stop fucking crying.”  _

The knock at her door was light enough for her to pretend she didn’t hear it. But it came again, a little louder. 

Jade knew that they couldn’t keep ignoring each other forever, but she wasn’t ready to face him quite yet. After all, he’d had every opportunity to seek her out over the past week, and instead let her wait in hatred that just got worse every day. She didn’t even know what to say to him, or what to expect from him if she invited him in. But it had to happen eventually, “Yeah?” 

He didn’t open the door to speak to her, “I, uh,” he cleared his throat, “There’s sushi if you want.”

“Okay.”

“I was thinking we could eat together?” he sounded almost hopeful. 

Jade wasn’t hungry. She hadn’t been for days, and there were two bags of popcorn left untouched on her desk that she still hadn’t thrown out. 

“I have some good news,” he added. “If-if you’re interested,” the optimism in his voice wavered for a moment as he tripped over his words, “you still like sushi, right?”

Being isolated from him for the past week left her wondering how little she meant to him. No longer worried if he cared enough and instead convinced he didn’t care at all. So, even though she wasn’t hungry and didn’t care about his ‘good news’, she leapt at the small moment of connection. He wanted to talk to her now? “Yeah, I’ll come out.” 

There was quite a spread on the table, and the takeout bags told her it was from one of the pricier sushi places in Beverly Hills. It was one of his favourite restaurants, and they’d gone about twelve times in the past year. Jade was very familiar with the menu prices.

So, very good news apparently. He must have found a job. “Some finance position, old buddy of Smith’s,” he explained, “but it pays better, so I’ll be able to, well, you know,” he trailed off. 

She didn’t know, but she didn’t ask. Just nodded along politely while he talked about the specifics of the job, when he was going to start, and how “things are looking up.” 

Okay. 

“So I thought I’d get your favourite,” he motioned to the pile of food on the table, none of which was her favourite. “Eat up!” He took several pieces of spicy tuna, “I spent enough on dinner,” he added with a grumble that wasn’t present before. 

Jade picked at the lobster salad and edamame, but mostly left the assorted sushi alone. She wasn’t sure anything else wouldn’t upset her stomach, and for the first time she considered how gross it was to stuff her face with limitless food just to soothe his petty ego. 

Who cared if he’d spent, what, (several types of sushi, the lobster salad, edamame, sashimi…) 200 dollars on dinner? She certainly hadn’t asked him to, and she didn’t have to eat it all just to satiate him. 

He didn’t notice. He kept droning on about his interviews, “That’s what I’ve been up to the past few days,” the other applicants, “but, my recommendation from Smith set me over the top,” and his new boss, “Mr Shield’s a good guy. He’s not going to take some bullshit harassment claim seriously.”

This wasn’t new information. From his various complaints, Jade figured his “joke” was some combination of advances towards a coworker of his. It was very unfair, according to him, that he’d be fired over something “so trivial.” 

But she was happy for him now. Sort of. Securing a job had done wonders for his mood, and she noticed with relief that he was drinking water with dinner. 

When he finished off the salmon rolls, he got to work clearing the table, “want some decaf?” 

“Yeah, sounds great,” a week with no contact, and now he was offering up their ritual. She settled into the couch, not bothering to grab a book since she could hardly focus on anything lately. It would be far less frustrating to tune out the television. Reading the same lines over and over drove her mad during the week, and she gave up on trying to do anything productive days ago. 

He joined her five minutes later, setting a mug down in front of her. She took a sip, two sugars already stirred in. He paid attention to the little things. He knew how she liked her coffee, he remembered she liked the lobster salad.. 

Jade stayed quiet as she sipped on the coffee, waiting for him to choose the station but the t.v remained off and he squared his shoulders, “do you want to talk about...you know...” 

Her hair. 

She shook her head, “it’s okay.” It wasn’t, but she didn’t want to talk about it. Especially since she knew she wasn’t getting an apology. If they were going to reinstate T.V and decaf, she’d rather they do so without talking. 

“Look, I know I have a problem,” he said abruptly, and Jade was pulled from her thoughts, though they kept looping around in her brain while she tried to listen to him. Already there was something different about him, his posture had shifted, a little less sure of himself than he usual. He was staring at an invisible spot on the floor, hands twisting in his lap, “and I’m going to work on it.” He looked at her for a fraction of a second but couldn’t maintain eye contact and looked down at the floor again almost immediately. 

After everything he’d done she still wanted to believe he was a good person, that he was going to be better, that he would turn things around and they could have a real relationship. She  _ wanted _ to believe that he was more than his mistakes, she was more than a nuisance; and they were more than two broken, angry people living together. They had to be. 

  
  


“I’m serious, Jade,” it was so rare for him to sound like that. Open and vulnerable like she might ever get to know him well enough to earn his devotion, “I want to do better,” he was looking at her again, a softness in his gaze that she wasn’t used to even though she’d seen it before. It was one of those tiny changes that she was sure no one else could see, and it almost felt like the past few months couldn’t possibly have happened. Not when he looked at her like that. “I promise.”

Jade nodded, and was about to respond when he cleared his throat and spoke up again, “but I think we  _ both  _ need to do some work,” he looked at her intently, no longer soft, “because I need to know that you respect me. I don’t know what little rebel phase you think you’re having, but it’s done now.” there was an icy intensity in his gaze, one she’d seen before but not recently, “this new attitude of yours is completely unacceptable. Understood?”

It was hard to argue, especially after the brief moment of vulnerability he’d been able to show. He wanted the same things she did, and he’d just told her he was going to work on it. He promised. All he wanted from her was a little effort. And if he could do it, so could she. She could keep her sarcastic remarks to herself, she could resist dyeing her hair blue, and when September came she could bring home perfect grades again, join another team. 

Even if she didn’t think he should be asking anything else from her, she could do it. She had to. 

She didn’t have anyone else. So she nodded, “yeah. Okay.” 

“Good.”

Jade waited for him to say something else or even look at her again. The way he did that was soft and gentle, and made it feel like all the work she’d have to do to keep him happy was worth it. If he just softened like that again, enough to let her know that he was human, too. That he saw her, and loved her, and cared enough to try and be better. 

But he didn’t. Instead, he let out a forceful exhale through puffed cheeks, “ so, you want to pick a movie?” 

She didn’t want to watch a movie with him. She wanted to spend the rest of the night cutting up every scrap of paper still left at the bottom of her school bag until the pieces were so small she couldn’t hold them anymore. She wanted to punch her pillows into shape, then out of shape, then back into shape just for something to do with the vibrating energy inside of her. 

But she wasn’t supposed to be mad right now. Not after his promise to be better, not after agreeing to watch her attitude. If he wanted to give her one more shot, she had to take it.

“Sure.” 

***

It went well for a week and a half until her thirteenth birthday which was, inexplicably but unsurprisingly, all about him. 

It fell on a Saturday, so when she made her way to the living space, he was already waiting for her. A half-empty pot of coffee on the kitchen counter and a small pile of gifts on the table.

Clearly his first paycheck came through. Something he’d been sure to mention every day since starting his job. 

Nothing particularly exciting. Another necklace from Tiffany’s, a charm bracelet with her birthstone, a newer PearPod with a touch screen, an X-box even though she didn’t play video games, and a small glass case with a single blue butterfly (“hard to find these days,” he said). 

Jade planned on spending the entire day alone like she had last year. She hoped to catch a show at the theatre on Santa Monica boulevard, maybe swing by her favourite little museum in West Hollywood. 

He asked what she wanted to do, but turned down each of her suggestions. The Public Art Walls were “too touristy,” the antique shops dedicated to the Golden Age of Hollywood were laughable, “you’re thirteen, not three hundred.” 

“We could check out the LACMA?” she offered, growing annoyed by his obstinance. “It’s not as cool, but it-”

“I know,” he cut her off, “we could head to the Centre, get you a new wardrobe,” he said with such confidence and force that Jade suspected it was his plan the whole time. “You’ll need more clothes for September anyway, since you couldn’t get the scholarship.” 

Maybe if he hadn’t spent two minutes turning down every activity that even remotely held her interest, she would have let it slide. But his comment pushed her growing frustration even further, and she slowly clenched her fists while she pointed out the obvious, “If you have a job now, why can’t you just pay tuition.” 

“The first payment is seventeen thousand dollars,” he said pointedly, “and was due at the beginning of the month.” 

Jade didn’t particularly care about public school, but she didn’t want to start her last year of middle school somewhere new. She knew Westbay. The other students who thought she was shy but cool because she was on the Volleyball team. The teachers who kept asking if she was okay when her grades slipped and she stopped showing up to class. Coach Taylor, who briefly spoke to her about being team captain ‘since you’ve got the grit!’ 

It wasn’t really  _ her _ life, but it was  _ a  _ life, and she knew what to expect if she returned. “Well, can’t you do anything?” The prospect of having to completely rebuild was threatening enough that she couldn't control the urgency in her voice, even if it was bound to be met with a negative response. 

“No, Jade, I can’t,” he drawled, taking a sip from his coffee and glaring at her from over the rim of the mug, “rules are rules,” he took another sip, placed the mug on the table, and folded his hands in front of him, “and I shouldn’t have to remind you about your attitude.”

Jade let out a silent but heavy exhale, and through her grit teeth was able to manage a single, insincere, “sorry.”

To her surprise, he scoffed, “yeah, you really sound like it,” but he didn’t push her any further. “Hurry up and get changed before we go, I’d like to be done by 2,” as if it was something she begged him to do.

Still, she wasn’t ready to push her luck with him so early on in their new agreement. So far, he’d managed to stay sober and mostly pleasant for the past week and a half; and she’d managed to stay well behaved. Quiet, agreeable. 

Obedient. 

It didn’t take her long to get ready, and when she walked back into the open living space twenty minutes later, he was already waiting by the door. He glanced over her, something he did so often she stopped noticing it, and wondered out loud if she might need to go up a size or two because she was starting to “burst out” of the clothes in her wardrobe.

Her dad dragged her into different preppy stores, steering her towards the clothing he wanted her to wear and turning down anything she chose for herself. 

A black and red plaid shirt, “That’s a little dykey, don’t you think?” a mid-thigh black skirt, “There’s other ways to get boys to notice you,” a pair of ripped jeans, “I’m not going to spend money so you can look poor.” Or, her favourite response, to a t-shirt with a skull printed on it; a simple but gruff, “no.” 

She kept her mouth shut while trying on the clothes he picked out for her. Several plain polo shirts; as if she still had to wear a uniform, only the colours were worse. Bright pink, a lavender purple, a pale blue, white, lime green, and black; which she supposed was fine. A few long sleeve shirts, but either completely pastel or white with traces of floral patterns. Nothing she’d be caught dead in if she had a say. Three skirts, all pleated and grey, all falling just below the knee. Some boot cut blue jeans, and a pair of pearly white tennis shoes. 

On the drive home he was quick to congratulate himself on his keen understanding of “what’s in style for girls your age” and how he was able to blend that with what he considered appropriate. 

Maybe if it were a year ago, and he bought her all these clothes with the expectation that she would feel at home in them, she could have moulded herself accordingly. But she didn’t see the point anymore. Nothing she’d done, none of her successes, seemed to capture his attention. Not the ponytails that she’d finally figured out how to do well enough to avoid his comments, not her science fair trophy, not her MVP medal, her tests, her grades. Worse, he thought anything less was a sign of disrespect to be stamped out. 

He only noticed what she did wrong. No matter how minor.

When they got home from shopping, Jade didn’t bother unpacking her bags. She wasn’t going to wear any of it. The clothes in her closet were ones she’d been able to pick out herself, they were comfier, more interesting, and more varied than just polos and long sleeves. 

Even if they were getting a little small. 

She spent the rest of the afternoon trying on different shirts from her wardrobe, looking for something to wear out to dinner that would fit the upscale restaurant, but didn’t come from anything he’d chosen for her. However in nearly every shirt she tried, she couldn’t help but notice where her arms seemed to press against the holes in the sleeves. It seemed impossible that she could have grown out of them so quickly. Her hoodie from film camp, which had always been too big on her, was suddenly a perfect fit; and it bothered her that she couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment that happened. 

If she knew, at least then she would understand what changed, and it would give her a sense of authority over what happened to her clothing, her hair, her body, or - fuck-  _ anything.  _ But she didn’t. She had no say in what happened to her hair, what she wore, or how it fit on her body. 

The pile of discarded shirts on the floor taunted her when she looked at them. They were close to the right style, absolutely the right colours, the right texture. They were everything her new clothes weren’t, but her dad was right; they didn’t fit. 

Now that he’d pointed it out, it was impossible to ignore, and she couldn’t wear them with the knowledge that they pinched the skin around her arms and pressed against her stomach. How she had to stuff herself into some of them, wondering how she could possibly regain control over her body so she wouldn’t have to resort to wearing the new clothes that couldn’t possibly be meant for her. 

But nothing she did would work fast enough to get her ready for dinner. As she rummaged through the bags of clothes she swore she’d never wear, an overwhelming sense of failure coursed through her. If she couldn’t control her body, how could she control what she wore? 

It was hardly any different from her uniform, which she supposed was the point. 

Jade knew she wasn’t supposed to look, talk, act, or think like herself. The last time she did any of that was back when she still lived with-

-well. That hadn’t gone over very well in the end. 

Living with her dad was supposed to be her second chance, and she’d been careful not to make the same mistake. She’d spent months crafting a version of herself good enough to be worth whatever frigid scraps of affection he tossed her way; and it didn’t work. But he wouldn’t let her stop either. 

Not even through dinner, which started with him ordering for her; “and she’ll have the white truffle penne.”

It was what she always got, and she always liked it; but what if she’d wanted something different tonight, like the lobster ravioli? Or what if she wanted to try something completely new instead? 

What if she didn’t want to eat at all? 

Jade didn’t reach for the appetizers when they arrived. The small plate set in front of her remained spotless when it was removed for the main course, which she moved around with her fork but didn’t eat. She hadn’t ordered it, she didn’t want it. 

Her dad might have noticed, but he didn’t say anything until the waiter returned and Jade if she wanted it packed up, “no.”

“She’ll take it to go,” he corrected, giving her what had to be at least the fifth pointed look of the day. The waiter nodded and scuttled off to the kitchen with their plates, leaving him with the bill, “Christ, Jade, that’s forty dollars of pasta you wanted to just throw away.” 

“Because I didn’t order it.” 

His response was murmured under his breath as he signed the check, almost quiet enough to ignore completely, “just trying to do something nice.”

Jade cast her glance down at the table to deal with the unexpected pang of guilt his comment left her with. He’d been trying,  _ really _ trying these past few weeks, to keep his promise. He ate dinner with her everyday, gave her space instead of knocking her out of his way. When he talked to her, it was with a tone of indifference instead of indignation; and once with genuine interest when he finally noticed the MVP medal  _ “if you can’t get the grades, at least you can bump a ball around.”  _ Which, after months of nothing but constant criticism, felt like a compliment. 

He was holding up his end of the deal. 

But Jade wasn’t stupid. This promise was bound to fail eventually. He’d proven over and over again that not even her best efforts would earn his praise. In spite of his efforts, she had no reason to believe that anything would change when she started eighth grade, and she was starting to consider how stupid it was to bend over backwards for him just to be ignored. 

When she made her promise a week ago, she’d been scared and desperate, but she understood the implications at the time. He wanted their old relationship back. Where he got to say anything he wanted; and she had to walk on eggshells and bend over backwards just to keep his insults bearable. Where she had to do all this extra work to meet his expectations, but he never had to acknowledge her for it. 

And maybe if she was a different person, it wouldn’t be impossible to meet his expectations. If she were smarter, she wouldn’t have to read ahead just to maintain perfect grades. If she were more athletic, she wouldn’t have to stay behind for extra practice. If she liked the right clothes, if she was prettier, he wouldn’t have to constantly point out what was wrong with how she looked. If she were more agreeable, she wouldn’t have to bite her tongue to hold back her remarks. 

But that’s not who she was. 

Jade knew who she was, and she had to stop lying to herself. She was lazy, dark, demanding, and mean. She held nothing back, started fights with the people who used to love her, and drove a girl to suicide. She was twisted and bitter, and broken enough that people turned away when they finally saw it. 

Was there any point in pretending otherwise? 

Ellen certainly had more patience than Cliff, but everyone had their breaking point; and Jade had to admit, she had a special talent for making people hate her. Sure, it wasn’t a skill she particularly wanted, and not one she was proud of, but she was tired of fooling herself. 

Eventually, her dad would get bored of her façade or he’d notice the cracks, and then decide she wasn’t worth it. He was bound to go back on his end of the deal, the only question was how much of herself Jade would give up before that happened. At this point, trying any more than she already had would be nothing short of pathetic. She’d already done everything for him, reached every one of his ridiculous expectations; even exceeding some of them. All she got in return was exhaustion, and an emptiness that chased her around whenever she was awake. 

In other words, she lost. 

She always lost. She always would. Why should it be on anyone’s terms but her own? 

If she was going to lose anyway, she might as well do whatever she wanted to get rid of that emptiness. Might as well spend her time however she wanted, regardless of whether or not it fit within the confines of her promise or her dad's expectations.

He thought her rebel phase was over? 

It had scarcely even begun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Sorry again that it's late, and I really hope I haven't lost anyone in my extended absence. I am really thankful for all the support this story has gotten so far, and I promise I want to see it to completion. I really wanted to be that reliable poster, but stuff happens I guess. Please let me know your thoughts, and I hope I didn't disappoint! 
> 
> the little treat I promised is a link to my writing playlist for this fic. IDK if that's interesting to anyone, but it's here anyways on Spotify : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4rl4hs8v0CQEjUGpbsGjGT . Some songs are literally perfect fits to what happens in the fic, and while I never intentionally pull from music (with the exception of Existentialism on Prom Night) I sometimes find songs that perfectly correlate to plot points (Scumbag). 
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for reading, and sorry again!  
> -trashdove.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you,  
> -Trashdove


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